


From Your Farm to Our Table

by QuarantineKate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Closed off clarke, F/F, Farmer’s market, Lexa POV, costia is her friend, lexa moves for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuarantineKate/pseuds/QuarantineKate
Summary: Lexa moves across the country for work - she finds a farmer’s market with top-quality produce... and a certain blonde that she can’t seem to resist, even if Clarke seems hell bent on keeping her at arm’s length.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 61
Kudos: 371





	From Your Farm to Our Table

**Author's Note:**

> Idk guys, it started with a seed packet that I saw at Home Depot and grew from there...into a 30k one-shot that even I was not asking for.

When Indra called Lexa into her office last Wednesday afternoon, she had no idea her entire life was about to change. Lexa had lived on the east coast her whole life - she loved it there - but when the opportunity came up, even though it meant a cross-country relocation, she couldn’t say no. And at least she was familiar with a few of the people she’d be sharing an office with, had seen them through zoom calls, and had met a couple of them once or twice. Still, it was a huge change and not something she felt prepared for.

The only real move she’d ever made was a few hours south for college. Everything she had ever known was in Polis - most of her memories had been captured in one single city - her first kiss, first break-up, she even drove by her old high school every morning on the way in to work.

But plenty of people moved away from home and they survived. She’d be fine. Even if everything would be foreign to her - the streets, the stores, the weather, the accents... her new house.

Indra set her up with a real estate agent and she’d been in contact all week, looking through listings and trying to determine what she could afford, or couldn’t. The new job meant a serious boost in pay, but she was pretty simple. When she last heard from the agency, they had a solid line up of options, some for purchase and a few to rent, just in case.

She knew someone was going to pick her up from the airport, but she wasn’t expecting to find a big white sign with “ **LEXA WOODS** ” written in big, block letters. A young man, early twenties she figured, was standing behind the sign, eager to meet her.

“Good morning! How are you? How was the flight?”

“Fine.” She shifted the carry-on duffel over her shoulders. “Little bit bumpier than I had hoped.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but glad to meet you. I’m Nathan Miller, we spoke on the phone.”

“Ah, right. Nice to put a face to the name.” She smiled and followed him as he headed toward the exit.

“I’ll take that for you.” He stuck a hand out to grab her bag and she allowed to him to take it, watched as he carefully set it down in the trunk of his four-door sedan, and then walked over to the driver’s side. “I’ve got some really great properties to show you.”

Lexa opened the passenger door and slid into the car, the faux-leather seats felt hot on her ass even through the fabric of her blue jeans, and she missed the cooler temperatures back home immediately.

The first house was gaudy and the wallpaper was atrocious and Lexa was not about to pay _that much_ for something she deemed hideous almost on sight. She didn’t mind the condos, but she’d spent enough of her adult life climbing stairs to second and third floor apartments and if it was going to be _this hot_ for the better part of the year, she’d rather not.

“This one,” he said as he unlocked the door, “is in an excellent neighborhood. Great schools nearby, if you’re thinking about starting a family.”

“I don’t honestly see that happening any time soon. And it’s probably the farthest out from work that we’ve seen.”

“Well, I do have some options that are much closer, but... they’re rental homes. Unless you want to re-think your budget.”

“I don’t mind renting, for now.”

“Alright.” He stepped into the foyer and ushered her inside. “After this one, then, we’ll head into the city.”

Nothing struck her. Nothing felt like home. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything to, but it might have helped calm her nerves if something had. After a few less than ideal houses, and several hours spent searching, she toured a decent two bedroom about twelve miles from her office (still a solid thirty minute or more drive with traffic) that was quiet and clean and had a nice little back patio that she loved.

“What time is your flight out tomorrow?” he asked as he pulled up to the hotel she’d made a reservation at.

“Not until two.”

“Excellent. I’ll draw up the papers and bring them to you in the morning. We should have everything settled before you’re on your way home... well, not home. This is your new home, how exciting!”

“Thanks,” she replied as she pushed the door open and stepped out of the car. It was not as exciting as he made it seem, she thought.

He popped the trunk and she retrieved her duffel, thanked him again, and headed into the hotel. The room was pale green and reminded her of the old baby blanket she used to carry around when she was a child, but the bed was comfortable and the internet connection was solid. She made a few work-related phone calls, answered more e-mails than she really needed to (in an attempt to busy her mind and keep herself from spiraling) before passing out around ten.

Scheduling the move felt like absolute torture, but none of it - not the packing, planning, coordinating - compared to saying goodbye to Indra, Lexa’s mentor and surrogate mother. It didn’t matter that Indra promised her it wasn’t goodbye (they would be on all of the same conference calls, after all) or that she assured Lexa she was ready for this and could definitely handle anything the new job threw at her - Lexa still fought back tears. Indra refused to cry, though, and Lexa was glad for it because it made it easier for her to keep it all in.

“Be good,” Indra told her as she shook Lexa’s hand one final time. “Make good choices.”

Lexa laughed lightly. “Always.” She nodded.

She grabbed her jacket and headed out of the office to her hybrid sedan, already packed up with essentials and snacks, set to make the cross-country drive all on her own. The moving truck would be there in five days, so she wanted to make it in as few stops as possible to ensure she beat them to the house - her new house. She shifted the car into drive and that was it - the end of her life in Polis and the beginning of a bright, new world on the west coast.

_____

Two months in a new place and Lexa was absolutely thriving. The weather was divine, the food was amazing, and her new co-workers were surprisingly laid-back despite being consistently busy. The commute to and from work was definitely long, but the breeze from the ocean felt cool and calming against her skin when she settled into the chaise lounge on her patio to read after dinner each night. And she heard about a farmer’s market on the edge of the city with amazing produce that she was absolutely dying to visit. Grocery stores were fine, and most of the time, they were enough for Lexa, but there was something about the market that made her happy - the sun shining on her face, the open air, and the smiling faces. There was just something inherently better about a home-grown cucumber that you didn’t get at Whole Foods.

Lexa thrummed her steering wheel to the beat of the song on her radio as she drove out of the city. It was already approaching seventy despite only being just past nine in the morning. She rolled her window up as she drove down the dusty dirt road that led to the farmer’s market, eased into a makeshift parking spot in the grassy field, and followed a throng of people to the entrance. It wasn’t as busy as she would have expected, but then again, fresh produce was on every corner.

Tying her lightweight flannel around her waist, Lexa headed past several flower stalls and straight to the veggies - she found a few new recipes she wanted to try and had very specific items on her list that she hoped to find. She eyed a few busy vendors before bright blonde hair caught her attention and her feet had headed that way of their own accord. Her eyes fell from blonde hair to bright blue eyes and a smile that almost knocked her out cold.

A banner hanging loosely from the canopy above the blonde read “ **Griffin Grows** ,” and Lexa could see all manner of vegetables separated in rustic crates spanning the long linen-covered table. She stepped closer and noticed the big, loopy lettering of the handwritten descriptions on each crate. She could feel her eyes brows scrunch up as she read them: Bi-Licious Hybrid Sweet Corn, Bushy and Spacemaster cucumbers, Sugar Daddy peas...

“Hey there,” the blonde stepped up and addressed Lexa (who was suddenly too stunned by blue eyes that rivaled the ocean to respond). “What brings you out today?” she asked and despite the sudden pounding of her heart, Lexa managed to reply.

“Enjoying the fruits, and vegetables, of your labor, I suppose.”

“Mm...” The blonde nodded and then leaned in, putting a hand up beside her lips conspiratorially. “Full disclosure - not my labor. I’m merely the middle-man, or woman rather. But, I am here and, given the confused look I saw you sporting a moment ago, also happy to help.”

“Oh, no. I was just reading the interesting names you’ve given the vegetables. Bi-licious corn caught my eye.”

“Oh yeah, she’s really sweet.”

“She?”

“Mmhmm, the corn is a lady, believe it or not,” the woman said, teasing. “The eggplant, on the other hand,” she pointed down the table, “is very much a man.”

Lexa eyed the handwritten description. “And it’s called Black Beauty,” Lexa added, a little bit put off by it.

“Well, you know what they say,” the blonde shrugged.

“I don’t, actually. What do they say?”

The woman gave her a once over before speaking again. “Not a fan of the eggplant then?”

“Not in the least,” Lexa replied, her nose wrinkled up in disgust.

“Are you talking about the vegetable or low-key letting me know you’re a lesbian?”

“Depends,” Lexa said and smirked. “Is the corn really bi, or did you want me to know I have a chance with you?”

“Touché.” The blonde smiled. “Tell me something. Is it true that all vagitarians are also vegetarians or is that a myth?”

“Have dinner with me and find out for yourself.”

“Okay, Casanova.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “But you do all eat quinoa, right?”

“What do you have against quinoa?”

“Nothing. I mean, I’d rather eat almost anything else, but... I see the appeal, I suppose, given that you definitely eat quinoa and you look like, well, _that_.”

“I eat more than quinoa and vegetables. The offer stands, since you’re so interested in my diet.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“I might be trying to,” Lexa admitted, her face already redder than she’d like it to be.

“Bold of you to assume I date,” the blonde quipped, her hand resting comfortably on her hip.

“I suppose it is, given how little you seem to know about lesbians. Or do you only date other bisexuals?”

“I would never,” she gasped. “Too much competition. And they never really know what they want,” she sassed. Lexa could not believe- “I’m kidding! Jesus, your face,” she chuckled. “On behalf of bisexuals everywhere, though, I’d like to thank you for how offended you just got.”

“Well-”

“Just figured I’d throw a bisexual stereotype out there since I ran the gamut on the lesbian ones I’ve heard.”

“You missed a few.” Lexa raised a playful eyebrow.

“I’m sure I did. So why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“I just moved here from the east coast.”

“Did you U-Haul? Buy a fancy house for a girl you just met?”

“No, actually. I moved for work. And I’m renting a house.” Lexa reached for a cucumber and wondered why it was called ‘bushy.’

“So it’s not permanent, then,” the woman said matter-of-factly.

“It is.”

“Huh,” she said, crossing her arms and titling her head curiously. “You don’t strike me as the type who’d waste money like that.”

“I’m not. But I’d rather not invest in something I don’t love.”

“Still talking about houses?”

“Are you?”

“It is near a Whole Foods, though, isn’t it?” the blonde re-directed.

“Bold of you to assume I shop at Whole Foods,” Lexa retorted.

“More like an educated guess,” she laughed and Lexa rolled her eyes, caught sight of a crowd beginning to form around her, and, “Bummer. Looks like I’ve got other patrons to pay attention to now. You gonna buy anything or are you just gonna continue to stare at me with those big doe eyes?”

Lexa handed the cucumber over and grabbed some of the rainbow carrots for good measure. She watched the woman bag everything up and make change, eyes darting over to the other people as she did.

“Come back sometime.” She smiled. “Let me know how we stack up, compared to Whole Foods, I mean.”

“I will.” Lexa returned the smile and slowly backed away, holding the woman’s eyes as long as she could before her attention was stolen by an older gentleman holding up an ear of corn.

Lexa meandered through the farmer’s market for awhile longer, grabbed some fruit and herbs along the way, passed two guys selling “genetically enhanced” baked goods, a young woman with a tent full of handmade birdhouses, before finally heading back to her car.

______

The entire week after the market, Lexa cursed herself for not asking the blonde her name. She filled her time with work and reading, confirmed plans to go hiking on Sunday morning with Costia, and waited impatiently as the days dragged on.

When Saturday morning finally rolled around, Lexa was up and on her way to the market before nine - she noticed that it really picked up around ten and she wanted as much time with the veggie vendor as she could get.

“You’re back,” the blonde said with a smile as she filled a crate.

“I am.” Lexa smiled. “Turns out the Whole Foods is lacking.”

“Are they really?” She feigned surprise. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know. So, where in this city do you have enough room for a farm?” Lexa asked, genuinely curious.

“Not my farm,” she reminded. “And nowhere, I don’t think.”

“Oh.” Lexa nodded. “So, Griffin is...the farmer?”

“ _Farmers_ ,” she stressed. “So, what can I do for you today?”

“Explain the names.” Lexa looked down at ‘Spacemaster Cucumber’ and back up to blue eyes that were far brighter than they had any right to be.

“The Bushy Cucumber grows on a bush instead of a vine. The Spacemaster has compact vines so you can grow them in far less space which means they are a master of space, hence Spacemaster.”

“And the corn?”

“It has bi-colored kernels and it is actually sweeter than most corn,” she explained. “And the Sugar Daddy peas are just sugar snap peas with stringless pods and improved disease resistance.”

“Do you only grow vegetables with... interesting names?”

“No.” She shrugged. “But most of the produce goes to local stores and restaurants. Farm-to-table is a pretty big deal around here.”

“You sure know a lot, given you’re just the middle-woman.”

“I do.” She nodded. “Runs in the family, I suppose.”

“So, you’re related to Griffin?”

“You’re prying.” Her arms raised up and she crossed them defensively across her chest.

“I’m not,” Lexa denied and shook her head. “Just curious.”

“About the vegetables, or about me?”

“Both, I guess,” Lexa admitted honestly despite feeling like she may very well have gone too far with her questions.

“Ask me anything you want to about the carrots, Casanova, but I’m off limits.”

Lexa didn’t see a ring, but she started to wonder if she had misread the flirty banter they shared the week before because the blonde was decidedly less flirty and definitely not up for Lexa’s continued questions. Lexa grabbed a handful of carrots and another cucumber before somewhat shyly handing some cash over to the blonde.

“You should check out Niylah’s tent, two down on the left. If you’re into candles, I mean. Homemade, obviously, and they smell amazing,” she told Lexa, an attempt to salvage the conversation perhaps.

“Yeah.” Lexa pocketed her change. “I will.”

Walking away was easier and harder at the same time. She couldn’t explain what it was about the farmer, or not-farmer, but it felt as if there was an invisible string pulling her in. Even as the blonde was obviously pushing her away.

“Good morning,” Lexa was greeted by another cheerful blonde - the west coast was full of them and Lexa was not at all offended by it.

“Hey,” Lexa replied. She picked up a candle and it did smell wonderful, like fresh pine and early morning jogs back home. She glanced over to the vegetable stand, but the blonde wasn’t looking her way.

“Ah.” Niylah smiled and shook her head. “I see you’ve been bitten by the bug that is Clarke Griffin.”

“What?” Lexa furrowed her brows and looked back at the candle maker.

“Good luck getting close to her.” Niylah pursed her lips and glanced over at the vegetable stand. “She makes it very difficult.” Slowly, Lexa put it together.

“She does seem a bit guarded.” Lexa sniffed another candle that reminder her of her first girlfriend’s house - she set it back down quickly.

“That is an understatement,.” Niylah wrapped up the first candle for Lexa as she spoke. “Plus, she doesn’t live anywhere near here. Or at least, that’s the excuse she gave me when I tried.”

“Is she married?” Lexa asked, almost regretting the question as soon as it was out - if Clarke (so her name was Clarke) didn’t want Lexa to pry, she probably shouldn’t.

“Hell no.” Niylah shook her head forcefully. “Just stubborn.”

“Oh.” Lexa pulled out her wallet and handed Niylah money for the candle. She didn’t want to continue the conversation, didn’t want to learn anything she shouldn’t know, from anyone who wasn’t Clarke herself. “Thank you.” She smiled and headed for the exit.

_____

The best thing about Lexa’s new office had to be her co-workers. Costia was full of adventure and she had lived in the city her whole entire life, knew all of the best-kept secrets, and loved playing tour guide for Lexa. Sunday morning hikes had quickly become their thing, never taking the same path twice, but always ending up at Bravocado Toast, a healthy diner with a hipster vibe that was more Costia’s style than Lexa’s - but the food was incredible and served her well after the intense workout.

“It’s been a couple of months now.” Costia snatched a slice of Lexa’s bacon. “Tell me, how much better is the west coast?”

“It’s not better.” Lexa swatted her hand away. “It’s different.”

“Uh-huh. Says the girl with sun-kissed tan skin, hair that practically shines in the sunlight, and more pairs of aviators than anyone else I’ve ever known. You love it here.”

“I don’t mind the sunshine,” Lexa admitted. “Or the weather in general. Or the company, for that matter.”

A slow smile spread across Costia’s lips. “Yeah, I’m not bad. Or did you mean the actual company? The west coast office is a bit more relaxed.”

“Both. Although, if I’m honest, I do miss the intensity of working with Indra. Anya is a close second, but the rest of you,” Lexa shook her head, “are way too chill for my taste.”

That made Costia laugh. Lexa was grateful for her, and her friendship - back home she had very few close friends, and even then not anyone she spent time with as regularly as she did Costia. She had also gone out with Anya a time or two since she moved but... she was dating a mechanic with a penchant for loud bikes and fast cars, and the local dive bars they frequented were not really Lexa’s brand of fun.

But Costia was a genuinely jovial person, someone Lexa found it very easy to be around, and they had a lot in common. The only down-side to spending time with Costia was the prickling sensation Lexa sometimes felt on the back of her neck when Costia looked at her a certain way, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t. Still, Costia was easily Lexa’s best friend in the city, so she did her best to ignore it, hoping that whatever it was wasn’t serious.

______

The past two weekend trips to the farmer’s market had gone well enough for Lexa - she didn’t pry and Clarke didn’t push her away, even if she still hadn’t technically introduced herself, either. But she did give Lexa an amazing recipe to try out and even if it was just a small thing, it was a little glean of insight into the blonde that Lexa appreciated. And for two weekends in a row, she had made Clarke smile and laugh, and maybe it was hard to break through the walls she had up, but maybe they were starting to crumble - Lexa was hoping, anyway.

“You’re a genius,” Lexa stated in lieu of a hello.

“I know,” Clarke quipped and the subsequent smile knocked Lexa off balance. “I told you it was good.”

“I never doubted you. But, I am curious.” She raised an eyebrow slightly. “What other incredible recipe secrets are you keeping from the world?”

“I’m not keeping them. You just never asked. And I assumed you were content to eat your salads or whatever you city girls eat.”

“First quinoa, now salads. You know, I happen to really enjoy cooking - as long as I have a recipe to follow.”

“Oh.” Clarke bagged up a handful of carrots. “You’re one of those people.”

“Those people?” Lexa asked, genuinely curious and somewhat confused.

“Yeah, you know... the kind of people who aren’t up for... experimenting.”

“Oh, I experiment. Just... not in the kitchen,” Lexa retorted.

“Shame.” Clarke’s hand came to rest on her hip. “I can think of at least a dozen experiments we could try - all of which take place in a kitchen.”

Lexa felt her face flush immediately at the insinuation, and all she managed to squeak out was, “We?”

Clarke’s cheeks followed suit, as if she hadn’t realized exactly what she had said until Lexa spoke, and blue eyes darted away from Lexa and landed on the crate of cucumbers instead.

“Not... we, specifically... uh, I just... Hey, have you tried the Bodacious tomatoes yet? They’re great for... making sauces or like... caprese sandwiches, if um, if that’s your thing.”

The re-direct threw Lexa for a loop, and she found herself looking at a crate full of huge tomatoes that she hadn’t really noticed before, too distracted by blue eyes to venture further down the table.

“Bodacious? You have a real knack for naming things.”

Clarke laughed and explained, “It’s not me, I swear. It’s just... that’s the variety. Okay, like four stalls down, Nyko sells tomatoes, too, but he grows what are called ‘Big Boy’ hybrids, and Tris around the corner has the ‘Early Girl’ hybrid. So, I mean... maybe I helped pick out some because of the name, but... I promise I didn’t name them.”

“I... honestly just thought it was just called ‘tomato,’” Lexa laughed at her own ignorance.

“City folk.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You say that with such disdain.”

Clarke didn’t comment further, just busied herself with straightening out the crates, and Lexa was left assuming that someone from the city had really done a number on her. They said their goodbyes and the weak smile Clarke offered her as she waved goodbye felt like an apology and a warning all at once (like Clarke was sure Lexa shouldn’t get too close, like she was sure she’d be apologizing for the pain soon enough - but Lexa was already too close, pulled in to Clarke’s orbit by some kind of invisible string that she couldn’t sever).

_____

And that was why she found herself headed straight to Clarke’s stall, aviators tucked into the front of her tight, black t-shirt and flannel hanging loosely from her waist the following weekend. The jean shorts she had on were barely visible from the length of her shirt, but she hoped that might work to her advantage.

“You know,” Clarke quipped as soon as her eyes landed on Lexa, “if we keep meeting like this, people will start to talk.”

“Will they?”

“Mmhmm, they will. Have you officially broken up with Whole Foods then?”

“I have.” Lexa nodded solemnly. “Tough conversation. I led with ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake.”

“Ouch.” Clarke clutched her heart. “I never thought I would feel bad for Whole Foods, but there it is. You’ve done it.”

“Don’t,” Lexa laughed. “The atmosphere is better here, anyway. It was long overdue.”

“Oh, is that why you’re here? The atmosphere?”

“Maybe. Maybe I just came by to see you.”

“Why would you do a silly thing like that?”

“Maybe I like you,” Lexa said quietly.

“Like me?” Clarke scoffed. “You don’t know anything about me. What could you possibly like?”

“I like your smile.”

“My smile? _That’s_ your line?” Clarke’s arms folded tightly across her chest (her signature move, it would seem, when Lexa was getting too close) and raised one very skeptical eyebrow.

“It’s true. And I like your eyes, the way they sparkle when the sun hits them.” She reached a tentative hand up to Clarke’s chin and, for whatever reason, Clarke allowed it, so Lexa tilted her chin up and to the side, “Just... there. Yeah.” She nodded. “And I like that, sometimes, _I_ say something that makes you smile - not just any smile, though. A real one. And, because I’m sure you’ll ask, I know it’s real by the way your eyes get just a little bit bluer.”

“Oh, you’re good.”

Lexa gave Clarke a curious look before, “Have dinner with me.”

Clarke extended her hand for Lexa to shake. “Clarke Griffin. And you are?”

“Lexa Woods.”

“Yeah, no way, Woods.”

“Did you introduce yourself just so you could reject me by name?”

“I did. And it’s not gonna happen. You’re too smooth. And I’m not interested in getting played.”

“I’m not playing-”

“You’re hot, though. Too hot to be real, probably. But,” she uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips instead, “it was impressive. I’m gonna tell my friends about that line, for sure.”

“It wasn’t a line.” Lexa bagged up a few ears of corn. “But, if it’s a no-”

“It is.” Clarke nodded. “But I hope that won’t deter you from shopping with us,” she added, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“It won’t.” Lexa smiled and walked away, feeling down but not entirely out. It seemed obvious enough to her that Clarke was used to the attention, and she was used to being let down, too. She didn’t expect to see Lexa again, that much was clear, but where else was Lexa supposed to get rainbow carrots fresh from the farm?

_________

“If this week does not go by quickly, I’m not sure I’ll survive it.” Costia sighed and let her head fall against the back of her chair.

“Big plans?”

“No. My mother just got back to town and instead of bothering my brother, she’s decided to stay the week with me so we can catch up,” she grumbled. “She’s always been a bit flighty, and that’s fine, but showing up unannounced is just... ugh!”

“When does she leave?”

“Not soon enough. She wants to stay through Sunday, but I keep trying to tell her I’ve got plans on Saturday so she might head out Friday night. She doesn’t believe me, though.”

“You could come with me to the farmer’s market,” Lexa offered without thinking.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you want... or I could just text you about it so she thinks we have plans,” she backtracked.

“No, I’m up for it,” Costia smiled at Lexa and it was the kind of smile that gave Lexa pause, the prickling on her neck was back, and she couldn’t place why but she knew she shouldn’t have asked.

________

Lexa didn’t wake up early on Saturday to beat the rush, but she managed to pick Costia up and make it to the market before eleven when the crowds were at their peak. Maybe that was better, she thought, and she could lose Costia in the crowd for a moment, long enough to see Clarke, to prove her wrong-

“This place is amazing,” Costia took it in as she slammed the car door shut, causing a slight grimace to cross Lexa’s face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Lexa didn’t see a point in mentioning it. “Ready?”

They strolled through the market lazily, Costia stopping at every other flower stall she saw, and Lexa content to follow behind. Or she was content, until she caught sight of brilliant blonde waves and her stomach dropped to the ground for a moment. She almost hadn’t realized they were so close to Clarke, at the booth across from hers and down one, but she could feel blue eyes on her, even though, when she looked up, Clarke wasn’t looking at her.

“I’ll be right back, Cos. I’m just going to get some cucumbers for the week.”

“Okay,” she said, picking out sunflowers to add to the already overflowing bouquet she’d been making.

Lexa put her best foot forward, chin up and smiling, as she pushed forward through the small crowd between them and walked straight up to Clarke.

“You... came back.” She sounded significantly less cheerful than she usually did, maybe too shocked to keep up the friendly charade.

“I told you I would.”

“And you moved on. So quickly.” Clarke looked over Lexa’s shoulder. “With a mocha dream. Well done.”

“What?” Lexa turned her head back and saw Costia bounding over toward them. “No, Costia and I are just friends,” she added quickly.

“Sure she knows that?” Clarke’s arms were crossed before Lexa could respond.

“Ooh,” Costia cooed. “Veggies.” She bumped Lexa’s shoulder and linked their arms together before trying to tug her away from the blonde. “There’s so much to see. Did you get your cucumbers?”

Lexa locked eyes with Clarke, noticed the way they grew darker as they narrowed for a fraction of a second before returning to a neutral blue just as quickly. She was smiling, friendly enough but curt - not real at all.

“Oh, is that why you’re here today?” Clarke’s head tilted up, challenging Lexa. “Back for my bushy cucumbers, are you?”

“Um...” Lexa shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Yeah, and... maybe a couple of ears of corn?”

“Sure thing.” Clarke bagged it up and took her money, and she seemed nice enough to anyone passing by, but her eyes had gone stormy and, if Lexa had to guess, she’d say it meant that Clarke was pretty sure she had been right about Lexa after all. “Enjoy the day, you two!”

Lexa made a mistake, that was clear. She shouldn’t have come - maybe she should have taken Costia to a different market, come back the following weekend and made an excuse for her absence. Maybe one weekend of thinking Lexa was a player, but not knowing for sure, would have been better than witnessing it first hand (at least, Lexa was pretty sure that was what Clarke had been thinking about her).

“Bushy cucumber?” Costia asked when they were far enough away from the stall and headed to another flower stall, Lexa assumed.

“Her produce is exceptional, even if it is... curiously named,” was all Lexa could think to say.

“Her produce?” Costia laughed. “I suppose she is very pretty.”

“She is.” Lexa swallowed. “She also already said no.”

“Oh,” was all Costia managed to say back, and while she sounded surprised, she didn’t sound altogether unhappy with the admission.

_______

Lexa’s week was slammed, and while it proved to be a helpful distraction from the current Clarke Griffin situation, it was also maddening. The laid-back atmosphere was never more unwelcome than it had been all week. Several of their projects were stalled and it was up to Lexa to get the train back on the tracks, so to speak. But nobody in the office had any drive, it seemed, and she was frustrated in every way imaginable.

She didn’t make it out to the market that weekend. She spent most of Saturday in the office, alone, and only when she saw a text from Costia around seven that night, asking about hiking, did she gather up the paperwork and head home.

On Monday, she sorted through the project delays with Anya, both buckled down and ready to work. Tuesday, she had made some headway and Wednesday things were looking up - at work, anyway. But thoughts of Clarke plagued her mind and even Costia’s friendly invitation to dinner didn’t help much to distract her. It wasn’t like she wanted to spend any inordinate amount of time thinking about blonde hair and blue eyes, or a smile that had stopped her heart on more than one occasion. But she couldn’t shake it, the invisible pull that seemed to draw her in, made her want to break through Clarke’s tough exterior, curious about what she might find there. And so by Friday, when everything had sorted out and the train was effectively back on the tracks, she left early - got her shopping done and went to bed at a reasonable hour, alarm set to ensure she’d be at that market when it opened.

She pulled up and stepped out of car into dew-covered grass, regretted wearing Vans as soon as she did, the tips of her toes already wet as she stepped toward the entrance. The fog had lifted but it was breezy, and Lexa’s open flannel flitted behind her as she walked, fast and determined to clear things up.

But it wasn’t Clarke who greeted her when she walked up to the vegetable stand - it was a young girl, (maybe seven or eight) with dark wavy hair and big, bright eyes.

“Hi,” the girl said as she stepped up to the cloth-covered table. She could barely see above all of the crates of vegetables, but she was trying. “Can I help you?”

Before Lexa could answer, Clarke was there, pushing the young girl toward a camp chair and handing her a book. Lexa heard her whisper, “Thank you, but I’ve got this, okay? Work on your homework, like we talked about.”

Clarke’s arms were already crossed defensively when she approached Lexa. Lexa stared at the little girl a moment longer, brows scrunched up unintentionally, as she turned her focus to Clarke.

“She’s mine,” Clarke offered, answering the unspoken question that had been hanging in the air. “Still wanna go to dinner?” Clarke tacked on, her tone more facetious than Lexa had heard it before.

“Yeah,” Lexa replied almost too quickly - but she did, she definitely did, and if Clarke was finally going to-

“What? No, I... I figured once you found out I had a daughter, you wouldn’t-”

“Of course I do. It’s all I’ve wanted since I first talked to you. Well,” Lexa thought about it, “it’s not _all_ I’ve wanted, but... it’s a start.”

“And your affectionate goddess?”

“My... what?”

“The girl hanging all over you. Is that all you want from her, too?”

“Clarke, I told you. We’re just friends. We work together.”

“And I told you, I’m not interested in getting played. So.” she changed the subject quickly. “You’re out early today. What brings you out this time?”

“I wanted to clear things up, maybe get some corn while I’m at it.”

“By all means, get some corn then.” Clarke seemed wholly unimpressed with Lexa’s effort.

“You weren’t serious about dinner, were you?”

“No.” Clarke raised her eyebrow. “It would never work.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You live in the city, I assume. I’m forty-five minutes out, sometimes an hour with traffic. I live off a dirt road, in the middle of a one-stoplight town. You have a fancy job and, likely, a six-figure salary. I routinely shove my whole arm inside of a cows’ backside to deliver a calf. In what world do you and I make sense?”

“All of them,” escaped Lexa’s lips before she could even think about it.

The answer seemed to have taken Clarke by surprise - her mouth fell open slightly and her head pulled backward as she took in the expression on Lexa’s face. And then her arms uncrossed and she placed them onto the table, palm-side down, to steady herself maybe, and Lexa thought she might have reason to hope after all.

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes. I don’t know what it is, Clarke. I didn’t ask for it, or expect it, but I think about you all the time. And I... I’m almost positive that you feel it, too.”

“So what if I do? I don’t know anything about you. And I have more than just myself to think about.”

“What do you want to know?”

Clarke whispered, “Everything,” but it was barely audible, too low to expect that Lexa heard her, even though she did. “Tell me something real. What... what makes you feel vulnerable?”

It was a loaded question, and not one that Lexa expected, or felt entirely comfortable answering. But if it was the only opening Clarke was going to give her, she had to answer it, and she had to be honest. Because, she supposed, Clarke probably felt pretty vulnerable herself; Lexa knew more about her than she knew about Lexa, most of all that she was a mother, and likely hadn’t done anything without considering the effect it might have on the young girl.

“I guess... loving someone who, who could never love me back.”

“You say that as if it’s happened.”

“Well.” Lexa steeled her expression hoping it wouldn’t be so obvious how badly it still hurt. “You love your parents, even if they never wanted you, right?”

Clarke looked at Lexa, really looked at her, and it made Lexa feel exactly how the question was meant to. When a beat passed and Clarke hadn’t said anything, Lexa decided to elaborate.

“My mom was sixteen, at least that’s what the paperwork says. I guess... that would be hard to do. I was adopted, and I had a great life, but... made me wonder, sometimes. She was really beautiful, once... The last I saw of her, she was back in prison - drugs... and sometimes I wonder if... if giving me up drove her to it, or... or if that was why, because she loved the high more.” She shrugged. She’d never know, and she couldn’t ask.

“I’m sorry, Lexa,” Clarke said, and she sounded sad. “I was eighteen, and... it was difficult. But I could never... How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“I’ll be twenty-six in October.” Clarke titled her head toward the camping seat and the bright-eyed little girl sitting in it. “She’s seven, going on twenty-one. And way too smart for her own good.”

Before either of them could speak, the little girl had gotten up and was wrapping her arms around Clarke’s thigh.

“Momma, how many stars are in the sky?”

“I don’t know, baby.” She pushed the girl’s hair out of her eyes. “A lot. Did you finish your math assignment?”

“No,” she grumbled into Clarke’s leg.

“Madi,” Clarke said with a stern tone that Lexa assumed was her mom-voice. “You promised if I let you come with me, you would work on your homework.”

The girl scowled and stomped back over to her little camp chair, pulled out a book with a colorful cover, and opened it up. Lexa saw the girl, Madi, glance back up at her curiously before burying her face in the book.

“Sorry,” Clarke sighed.

“No, it’s fine. She’s cute.” Lexa smiled. “Like her mother. Although, I’m not sure that’s exactly the word I’d use to describe you.”

“Okay, Casanova. Cut it out with the charm. I’m already intrigued.”

“Yeah? So... dinner?”

“I’ll think about it.” Clarke looked over her shoulder at her daughter. “Would you settle for my phone number? For now.”

Lexa’s heart beat right out of her chest and was carried away on the wings of the butterflies that had been living in her stomach all morning. “Definitely.” She nodded, unable to hide the elation she felt.

“Yeah, alright.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “I guess I kind of like your smile, too.”

“Yeah you do.” Lexa beamed.

If cloud nine was real, Lexa was on it. Absolutely nothing could wipe that smile off of her face, not even the gray, overcast skies or the fact she’d been thrown a curve ball in the form of a seven-year-old little girl. Lexa didn’t know much about kids, not much beyond the fact that she’d been one once, and she definitely had no idea how to navigate a relationship with a child involved - but she would learn, she _wanted_ to learn, for Clarke.

If she had an extra pep in her step that afternoon, one that carried her through the weekend, and persisted even up the rolling hills on Sunday morning during her hike, she didn’t complain. Clarke had only texted her a few times, likely doing her best not to seem eager, or to maintain some semblance of the guard she’d had up, but it was more than enough to keep Lexa smiling.

“You’re awfully chipper,” Costia commented around a mouthful of scrambled egg.

“It’s been a good weekend.” Lexa sipped at her steaming cup of black coffee. “If I were still in Polis, I’d probably be sitting at home with the Sunday crossword, lamenting the quick weather change from high 70s to low 50s in the matter of days, or something equally depressing,” she laughed. She’d also never have met Clarke, but it was too soon to ramble on about that.

“Good thing you moved then.” Costia smiled.

“It definitely is,” she agreed, grabbing her fork and digging into the egg white omelette she ordered.

______

By Wednesday, their text conversations were lasting longer and, even though it had all been superficial information (favorite color, song, etc.) Lexa couldn’t help but hope that it meant she might get to spend time with Clarke sometime soon, somewhere outside of the farmer’s market. But she was cautious, and let Clarke steer their conversations more often than not. Lexa understood enough about the situation to know that even getting Clarke’s phone number had been a big step for the blonde, likely not something she had done without thinking it through a thousand times, playing out the different ways it could go wrong, before considering the ways it might go right.

**Clarke:** if we keep this up, we won’t have anything to talk about on our date

**Lexa:** So, there will be one then? A date?

**Clarke:** Friday?   
It will have to be late, if you want me to be presentable...  
Eight?

**Lexa:** I’ll eat a big lunch.  
Should I pick you up, or...?

**Clarke:** I’ll meet you.  
Have you been to Station Thirteen?

**Lexa:** Is that the bar and grill inside an old firehouse?  
Off 45?

**Clarke:** yep :)

**Lexa:** Can’t wait!

“Hey,” Costia popped her head into Lexa’s office. “Some friends of mine are getting together on Friday night. Wanna tag along? Meet some new people.”

“Oh,” Lexa set her phone down and looked up, “I would love to, but... I can’t. Another time?”

“Yeah, sure.” Costia’s smile fell a little bit and Lexa tried to ignore the pang of guilt she felt at the sight.

Thursday dragged by, and while Lexa was plenty busy with work, her mind was racing from the anticipation of her date with Clarke. Anya tried to keep her focused on the task at the hand, but often her mind would wander and Anya would literally snap at her to bring her back to the moment. She still hadn’t told anyone about it, worried she might jinx it if she breathed it out before it was real - and she wanted to keep it safe, keep Clarke to herself, for as long as possible.

Friday, Lexa had every intention of eating a large lunch, but when it came time to order something, nothing looked appetizing - an unfortunate nervousness had settled deep in her core, so she opted for a salad and even then, merely picked at it.

She rifled through the clothes she had hanging in her closet and sighed. She had no idea what to wear and nobody to ask. A quick google search told her that the bar was pretty casual, but photos showed people in all manner of attire, from ratty jeans and ball caps to the classier button-up tops and slinky black dresses. After thirty minutes of laying out the options on her bed, trying things on, taking them back off, she settled on a dark-washed skinny jean with a dark green button-up shirt that brought out her eyes. With the shirt tucked in, and her sleeves rolled appropriately up to her elbows, Lexa felt confident enough in her appearance - it was casual but classy, and with her hair falling down in cascading waves, feminine, too.

She was not prepared for Clarke. At all. Lexa was early, on purpose, and sat comfortably at a two-top in the middle of the restaurant. She could see the front door, but she tried not to stare, busying herself with a game on her phone and trying to calm her nerves. But then - Clarke walked in, her white sun dress contrasting pleasantly with her tan skin, and Lexa choked on the water she’d just sipped.

Lexa stood and offered Clarke a weak wave, the best she could do given her legs were weak and her breathing had stopped abruptly. The smile Clarke flashed her didn’t help matters, either, but when Clarke’s blue eyes locked with hers as she ambled over, Lexa felt a rush of calm run through her body, like gentle ocean waves lapping at the shoreline.

“Wow,” she whispered as Clarke reached the table. “You look...”

“That good, eh?” Clarke teased. “You, too. Though I’m not sure wearing a green shirt was really fair.”

“No?” Lexa asked as they both sat down.

“No.” Clarke reached for her glass of water. “I mean, it’s bad enough I get lost in your eyes when you’re _not_ wearing green, but now... they’re literally shining at me like the fucking emerald city. Not that I’m actually complaining, but... if I lose my train thought, it’ll be your fault for wearing that.”

“A little convoluted, but I appreciate the compliment.” Lexa smirked. At least she wasn’t alone in feeling overtaken by the sight of her date.

“You should.” She shrugged. “I told you, I don’t really date. I guess I’m a little rusty.”

“No, you’re doing fine. I actually prefer the honesty. I will choose my shirt more carefully next time.”

“Already banking on a next time? You’re confident.” Clarke tilted her head to the side. “I like that about you, if it is a little bit terrifying at the same time.”

“Terrifying? I’m not scary, Clarke.”

“You are, actually.” She picked up a menu and pretended to study it. “So, what are you thinking? They don’t have quinoa here, I don’t think.”

Lexa was used to the quick subject-changes, but she wished for a moment that Clarke would be straight with her. Maybe it would just take more time, a few more dates, to really break through that tough exterior, and she was fine with that, but... it was frustrating all the same. She wasn’t scary, and she wasn’t really all that confident, either. At least, not about where she stood with Clarke. And sure, she was hoping they’d go out again, but... she hadn’t meant it to sound like an expectation when she said it.

The waiter came and took their order and, much to Clarke’s apparent surprise, Lexa ordered a burger from their specialty menu. Clarke opted for the more traditional bacon cheddar burger and they agreed to split a basket of fries. Once the waiter was gone, their conversation flowed seamlessly, like old friends catching up more so than relative strangers. After the food arrived, and they’d each had a beer to loosen up, the topic turned into things more serious than a first date might warrant, but Lexa was just glad for the glimpse into Clarke’s life.

“I was too young, and I wasn’t ready. But, I mean, they’d been through it once before, so... they were already prepared, I guess.”

“They’d been through it?”

“Well, yeah. My parents were high school sweethearts, true love and all that, if it’s real. And freshman year of college, my mom had come home for a weekend - nine months later - baby Clarke. But my grandparents were supportive then and they were for me, too. Mom stayed in college, dad worked the farm, and they raised me.” Clarke shrugged. “So when I found out, there was no hesitation, just a room upstairs at the farm, my old crib assembled and waiting.”

“Your grandparents sound like wonderful people, Clarke. And they grow amazing vegetables, I might add. Were your parents not... supportive?”

“My dad... would have been, if he was alive. And my mom... well, she was certainly disappointed that I followed in her footsteps, or whatever. But no, she’s just very busy. She’s a trauma surgeon, lives and works in the city, but she’s around.”

“Wow, a surgeon? So medicine runs in the family? I gathered you’re a vet of some kind, unless you just enjoy shoving your arm up cow butts, in which case... I should head out,” Lexa joked.

“Oh, gross. It is not fun, but... well, bringing baby cows into the world is pretty great.” Clarke smiled at a memory. “So far, Madi doesn’t seem to have much interest in science, so with any luck, she’ll go in a completely different direction. Maybe that’ll be enough to break the curse.”

“The curse?”

“Mmhmm.” She reached for a fry. “The curse of teenage pregnancy. I mean, I want to be a grandma someday but... not before I’m forty, you know?”

“Well, she seems like a smart kid, so I’m sure-”

“And I seem like what? I was a dumb kid?”

“What? No, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Clarke shrugged it off. “She is smart. So was I, and so was my mother. It just... it happens.”

“Yeah... well, I’m glad your family was supportive, at least.” Lexa looked down at her plate and tried not to let the conversation get to her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Lexa. I didn’t... fuck. I guess I’m just, I’m used to the judgment and I... I get defensive first.”

“It’s fine, Clarke.”

“Hell of a first date topic,” she sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have been texting so much. Then we could just play twenty questions and ignore the heavy stuff.”

“I don’t mind the heavy stuff,” Lexa admitted. “I mean, but... I’m not judging you, Clarke, so... I’d appreciate it if you _tried_ to believe that, at least.”

“That’s fair... But, well... can I ask you something?” Lexa merely nodded to Clarke to continue her train of thought. “Do you - no, let me rephrase - _did_ you want to have kids, before you met me?”

“No.” Lexa swallowed thickly. “I didn’t _not_ want them, I just... didn’t want them, either.”

“And now?”

“Still don’t, no. I’ve seen videos, Clarke. There is no way my hips could handle that,” Lexa joked.

“I bet they could.” Clarke raised one eyebrow and appraised all of Lexa she could see above the table. “But that isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

“What do you want me to say? That I went home and googled how to interact with second graders, just in case the opportunity arose? Because... I did and I feel barely more prepared now than I did before the search.”

“But you know she’s in second grade.” Clarke covered her smile with her hand.

“I... yeah, well... does that make me super uncool?”

“Definitely.” Clarke nodded. “It’s also very sweet.”

The waiter came and cleared their plates and for as well it had been going, Lexa would not have expected the evening to sour as quickly as it did. One glance over her shoulder and Clarke’s eyes had widened, darkened, and her expression had changed from one of adoration to one of ire.

“Tell me, Lexa. Does, Costia was it? Does she actually know that you’re just friends? Or is that just the line you’ve been feeding me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Clarke nodded her head to the place past Lexa’s shoulder where a group of young twenty-somethings had gathered by the bar, Costia among them.

“Because she’s looking at me like she wants to cut my head off and-”

“Clarke, we _are_ just friends,” Lexa insisted.

“Listen, Lexa. I told you that I’m not interested in the games. And I get it - you’re a hot, young professional in a new city, the world is your oyster and all that. But that’s not what I’m looking for, okay?”

“I’m not, either, Clarke. I swear-”

“I want to believe you, I do. But that,” she nodded toward the bar again, “is not the face of a girl who thinks you’re friends. And if you’re leading her on, God only knows what you’re doing with me. So, thank you for dinner, but... I’m going to go.” And with that, Clarke was up and headed for the door.

Lexa tried to go out after her, but the waiter stopped her, handed her the bill rather aggressively and waited for her to pull out a credit card and hand it over before allowing her to move again. Just as she got to the door, she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

“Lexa, wait...” Costia tugged at Lexa’s wrist gently and turned her around. “Is... so, you guys are... she’s the reason you couldn’t come out tonight,” Costia said as she pieced it all together, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Yeah,” Lexa started, but she was quickly cut off.

“I didn’t realize you two were dating now.”

“We’re not. Or... I mean tonight is the first time we’ve-”

“So what are we doing, Lexa?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends.”

“We spend every Sunday together. We go to movies, get dinner, I invited you out to meet my friends...”

“I... I’m not sure what-”

“I thought you and I, we... is it just me then? You don’t feel anything... more?”

“Costia,” Lexa sighed. No, she didn’t.

“It’s fine. I don’t know what I expected, honestly. And it’s hard to compete with a girl like that, I guess.” Costia looked toward the door where Clarke had made her hasty exit minutes before.

“It’s not that, Cos. You’re beautiful. I just... there’s something about her that I-”

“It’s fine, Lexa. I’ll... see you at work on Monday.” And with that, Costia turned and walked back to the bar where her friends were waiting, watching.

Lexa hung her head and waited for the waiter to reappear with her card, and as soon as he did, she headed for her car, phone in hand. Clarke didn’t answer her calls, or any of the text messages she sent that night, but she’d try the market in the morning and hope against hope that Clarke would hear her out.

Sure, she may have had an inkling that Costia liked her, but Costia had never voiced it - and maybe it was pathetic of Lexa to ignore it, to hang out with Costia even though there was always something in the looks she gave Lexa, but she loved Costia as a friend and she didn’t want to lose that. She probably had, anyway. Their Sunday hike was most decidedly called off, if the ‘see you Monday’ comment was anything to go by.

Clarke was not at the market Saturday. Her stall was empty - no canopy, no table, no evidence she had been there or would be showing up. Lexa kicked the dirt under her feet, tried to call Clarke one last time, and headed for home.

______

She wasn’t desperate. She didn’t need to be in a relationship, didn’t need that constant affirmation... but she _felt_ desperate because Clarke had gone completely radio silent and there was nothing Lexa could do about it. And she needed to explain, wanted to even, because all she could think about was the fact that Clarke had finally let her in and she... turned out to be exactly the kind of person Clarke was guarded against. (At least, she assumed that was what Clarke was thinking).

Costia didn’t talk to her on Monday, even though they did pass by each other a few times. Anya gave them both curious looks, but didn’t mention it until Wednesday when she and Lexa were locking up for the night.

“What happened between you two?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Lexa lied.

“Did you guys break up?”

“We were never dating!”

“Oh.” Anya put her hands up in mock surrender. “My bad. I thought you were, what with the way she always looked at you and all that.”

“I... I guess I was just avoiding it. I like her a lot, as a friend, and I didn’t want to lose her, but-”

“Oh.” Anya nodded. “So that’s what it is. Rejection stings. I’m sure she’ll be okay, after awhile.”

“You know what the worst part is?” Lexa asked, leaning against the trunk of her car.

“What?”

“There’s this girl-”

“Oh Lord, Lexa. Only you. Go on.” Anya waved her hands out in a gesture for Lexa to resume her story, even as she unlocked her truck and opened the door.

“We were on a date when... Costia showed up, and now she thinks that I was leading them both on, but I wasn’t- I’m not!”

“But you were,” Anya said, pointedly. “Because it was never a secret that Costia liked you and this is the first I’m hearing about another girl.”

“I wasn’t trying to!”

“I believe you, but... shit. You really stepped in it, Lexa. Wanna come out with me and Raven? Get shit-faced and forget your troubles?”

“No.” Lexa rolled off of her car and walked toward the driver’s side door. “I’d just end up drunk dialing her, probably.”

“Suit yourself.” Anya shrugged and climbed into her truck. “And hey, Costia will be okay. Just, give her time.”

“Yeah.” Lexa nodded. She was sure Costia would be okay. Costia wasn’t the person she was worried about.

Saturday morning, Lexa tugged on her tightest skinny jeans, threw a green t-shirt on, and headed to the market. She still hadn’t heard from Clarke, but she figured she could get there early and maybe have a chance to sort things out. Clarke was not at her stall.

A man in his late fifties, maybe, was standing behind the table full of vegetables with a shit-eating grin on his face, waving at people like he’d never been to a market before in his life.

“Morning!” he greeted her before she was close enough to really hear him. “Can I interest you in some corn? Or eggplants?”

“Oh.” Lexa glanced around for any sign of Clarke. “No, thank you. Is... is Clarke here today?”

“No,” he sighed. “Sorry. But I am here to help! I don’t usually handle the produce, if I’m honest. More of a ranch hand, really. I handle the livestock, normally. Do you eat meat?”

“I, yeah I eat meat.” Did she look like a vegetarian or something?

“Excellent! Have you ever been to Blake’s? Up past the old Wells Jaha Bridge?”

“I just moved her a few months ago, sorry. I’ve never even heard of that bridge.”

“No worries.” He smiled. “You should check it out, though. They buy their meat direct from our farm. Got a picture of Bellamy, my prized bull, hanging in the dining room.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. He’s a big deal up where I’m from. We lease him out for about five hundred bucks. People pay good money to breed a bull like Bellamy.”

“You... prostitute him?”

“Well, that seems a bit harsh a word, but... essentially, yes. So, you’re a friend of Clarke’s? Should I tell her you dropped by?”

“Oh, no. It’s... it’s fine. Do you know if she’ll be back next weekend, or...?”

“Can’t say for certain. Been pretty upset lately. One of the horses died a few days ago, so... I think it’s eating her up. She was pretty old, though. Can’t say I expected her to hold on for long.” He nodded solemnly along with his own story.

“Right.” Lexa chewed on her bottom lip. “Must be it. Thanks, uh, I appreciate your time.”

“Yeah, no worries! Have a good day!”

Lexa had no intention of having a good day. She had no idea how to get ahold of Clarke, given she wouldn’t answer her phone for Lexa, and short of googling large animal vets in the general area (which she was not going to do), there was nothing left to do.

But wallow - she could most definitely wallow. She didn’t, of course, Lexa would never. She would take out her aggression on the punching bag at Anya’s, and she would hike longer than she probably should have alone, but she wouldn’t wallow.

_________

Two weeks and she hadn’t heard anything from Clarke. She didn’t go to the market, either, figured maybe it wasn’t the right place to talk things out, anyway. And she caught Niylah eyeing her rather suspiciously on her way out the last time she’d gone - it may have been paranoia, but Lexa wondered if maybe Niylah was letting Clarke know when it was safe to return to the market without fear of running into her.

But it was _killing_ her, ugh! If only there was a way to see Clarke, on her terms, on _any_ terms, and just... drop down to her knees and swear she only had eyes for Clarke, that Costia was never really in the picture, that it had been Clarke from the beginning and nobody else!

“Come out tonight,” Anya insisted on Friday as they were headed to the parking lot after work. “A bunch of Raven’s friends from home are coming and it’s going to be a good time, I promise.”

“Dive bars and leather-clad women are not going to help me right now,” Lexa sighed.

“Probably not, but we aren’t going to a bar. We’re going bowling, and you,” she pointed an angry finger at Lexa’s face, “are coming.”

“Fine,” Lexa huffed. “But I’m wiping the floor with you.”

“In your dreams, Woods.” Anya laughed and climbed into her truck. “You good to follow?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and walked to her own car, mumbling, “Since apparently I’m coming,” on the way.

The bowling alley smelled musty, but the shoes looked almost-new, so Lexa resigned herself to try to have a good time, even if she’d rather be home reading (sulking). Raven had already secured the lanes and was waiting with a pitcher of beer when they walked over to her.

“Lexa, good to see you out and about. Heard about the lady trouble.” Raven handed her a beer.

“Really, Anya?” Lexa glared at her friend. “It’s fine. I’ll... figure it out. Thanks.” She lifted the cup up to Raven before taking a serious gulp.

Two gangly guys arrived next - Lexa recognized them from the farmer’s market almost immediately - Jasper and Monty, kings of cannabis they called themselves. Just as Lexa was finished lacing up her bowling shoes, Raven announced that the last of their party had arrived, and when Lexa looked up-

“Clarke.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed at Lexa, quickly turning from their usual blue into something dark and stormy, and then she looked at Raven and asked, “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Raven’s hands flew up in defense of something she didn’t understand.

“Clarke,” Lexa tried again. “Can we-”

“No.”

“Oh,” Raven seemed to work something out. “Shit, shit. Clarke, is Lexa _Casanova_?”

“You still call me that?” Lexa grumbled.

“I’m gonna take off.” Clarke motioned to the entrance.

“Wait.” Lexa stood and tried to reach out for Clarke, but she had already turned away. “Will you please just talk to me? Costia and I - we _never_ \- it was one-sided, Clarke, I swear-”

“Do not,” Clarke growled. “I’m not doing this with you.” She looked at Raven with absolute fire in her eyes. “If I find out that you knew-”

“She didn’t,” Anya jumped in. “Neither of us did.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa pleaded. “Clarke, come on.”

Anya stepped toward Clarke and nudged her away from the group for a moment. Lexa couldn’t make out what was being said, but Clarke’s eyes softened a fraction and that was enough for hope to bubble up inside of Lexa’s chest. Raven sat down beside her and studied her.

“Fucking with the emotions of a single mom, Lexa? Really?”

“I wasn’t. I wouldn’t, Raven - I promise. Costia and I are friends, or, we were. She thought... but it wasn’t, not for me.”

“That better be true, or I will kill you.” Raven patted her knee and looked back up to where Clarke and Anya were standing.

After a few minutes of hushed talking, Anya took a step back and nodded for Lexa to get up. She tripped over her own feet in her haste to do exactly that, but she didn’t care - Clarke was standing there with her arms crossed and an aggressive scowl on her face, but she was _still_ there... waiting.

“Can we-”

“Not here.” Clarke jerked her thumb to the entrance. “We can talk outside.”

“Okay.” Lexa nodded and followed behind as Clarke walked hastily away from her.

The man behind the counter said something about the shoes, but she waved him off and kept walking. She finally had an opportunity to talk to Clarke and no bowling alley shoe Nazi was going to stop her. If it had been a regular night, and they hadn’t been fighting (if that’s what it was), Lexa would have commented on how beautiful Clarke looked. She was dressed casually - a concert tee, skinny jeans, and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun - but even casual, Clarke was effortlessly beautiful.

“So,” Clarke said, arms crossed as she leaned against the bed of a large, blue truck, “our friends are dating.”

“It would seem so, yeah.” Lexa shoved her hands into the pockets of jeans and rocked on her feet nervously. “Clarke, I really like you.”

“Anya seems to think you’re just a useless lesbian, that you had no idea Costia liked you. Is that true?”

“I... on some level, I guess I thought... she might.” Lexa looked down at the ground for a moment. “But I really liked her, as a friend.”

“So you did lead her on.”

“Not intentionally, no. It sounds so bad when you say it like that. I just... we didn’t talk about it.”

“And what are you doing with me?”

“I’m...” Lexa took a tentative step forward before continuing. “I’m trying to get to know you, Clarke. I want to know you. I feel like there’s something happening between us, or there could be... if you lowered your shield a little bit.” She swallowed. “I know I’m... inexperienced, when it comes to dating a single mom, but I’m never gonna learn if you won’t let me in.”

Clarke pulled the tailgate down and hopped up, let her legs swings freely below her. Lexa waited for her to say something, but Clarke seemed to be enjoying the night sky and silence, and even though it was killing her inside, Lexa let Clarke take whatever time she needed to come up with a response.

“The _shield_ or wall, whatever, has served me well,” she finally said. “Keeps me safe, keeps Madi safe. And I did lower it, Lexa. And then-”

“And then there was a misunderstanding and not only did you put the wall back up, but you reinforced it with like, industrial strength concrete, or something.”

Clarke laughed lightly. “Yeah, something like that. But can you really blame me?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“You came out of nowhere, Lexa. And you made me smile, you said things... ridiculous things, like... You expect me to believe that someone like you is interested in me? Get real.”

“But I am,” Lexa said, stepping closer until her hip was resting against the tailgate. “So interested. Clarke, not talking to you, not seeing you... it’s been _the worst_ , okay? And I get that I probably should have leveled with Costia, but... I wasn’t thinking about her. It’s been you. It feels like it’s always been you.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about, Lexa. That’s... a lot to take in.”

“I know.” She paused. “Look, if... if this isn’t what you want, I’ll take off. You can go back in, have fun with your friends. I just... I didn’t want you to go on thinking that I ever, for even a second, had anything less than honest intentions. I’m not a player, Clarke. I don’t even understand the game.”

“Why me?”

The question took Lexa by surprise. She didn’t have a solid answer to that - nothing about it made sense in her head, and she wasn’t ready to consider where her heart was on the matter - the truth was that she just felt a connection and she wanted to explore it. Maybe connection was too small a word, but... it was all she had. Still, if she thought about it-

“Because... because you’re you. And I don’t know, Clarke, because of reasons I don’t even understand. I mean, we went on one date and it wasn’t exactly a shining success, but... I want to try again. I just... I’d like to be in your orbit, if you’ll let me.”

“I could probably be persuaded.” Clarke patted a spot on the tailgate beside her, so Lexa turned around and jumped up, hands firmly planted on the edge ofit. “If you keep saying things like that. But... maybe we could just, try to be friends first?”

“Of course.” Lexa nodded. “But... if something changes, and... and you do want to, um, let me take you out again... you’ll have to tell me. Apparently I’m not great at picking up the signals.”

Clarke laughed at her and swatted her shoulder. “I think you pick them up just fine.”

Lexa just shrugged and stared up at the night sky. It was dark, few stars visible in the densely populated, somewhat polluted city, but the calm and quiet was nice. Clarke pointed up to one large star, explained that was, in fact, not a star at all, but a planet she could see best from the telescope in the barn. Lexa wondered if she might ever be in that barn with Clarke, looking through a telescope and listening to stories about stars she’d never heard of, wondered if the stars in general were easier to see, out in the country where Clarke lived. And she may have been a bit disappointed that Clarke wanted to take a step back, but all the same, it was nice to just sit and wonder about the vastness of the universe with Clarke at her side.

Raven pushed through the large front door and interrupted a story Clarke was telling Lexa about camping under the stars when she was a kid, effectively breaking them out of the comfort they’d found in sitting together on that tailgate, all misunderstanding resolved.

“Are y’all gonna bowl or what?” Raven asked as she strutted over to them.

“Yeah.” Clarke nodded, slid down off the tailgate and waited for Lexa to do the same before she lifted it back up and shut it quietly. “Come on.”

“Excellent! So, you guys are good then?”

“We’re fine, Rae. Did you start without us?”

“No, we’ve been drinking and eating nachos. Jasper has the munchies,” Raven sighed as she pulled the door back open and followed them inside.

Clarke was surprisingly good at bowling. Lexa tried not to notice the way her ass looked in her tight jeans, but on occasion, she caught herself staring. Jasper and Monty were almost in their own world, but every once in awhile they’d snap out of it and socialize - apparently Monty was on a league once, although he seemed a little rusty.

Lexa wasn’t the best at bowling, but she got a couple of strikes and held her own against Anya (who had been more focused on her girlfriend than the game). She didn’t exactly wipe the floor with her friend, but she didn’t lose, either. Lexa’s favorite part of bowling with everyone, though, was that as soon as Clarke had finished her turn, she’d _always_ come back over and sit next to Lexa. And every time she did, she was sat little bit closer.

“Hey.” Clarke leaned in against Lexa’s shoulder. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“No idea.” Lexa shrugged. “I’ll probably wash my car, maybe finish the book I’ve been reading.”

“Not going to the market?”

“Oh.” Lexa looked down at her hands. “I haven’t been in awhile.”

“I know,” Clarke admitted (so Niylah was reporting back to her, Lexa thought). “But, if you’re not busy... you could come hang out for a little while, if you wanted.”

“Really?” Lexa perked up immediately and turned to fully face Clarke.

Her eyes were _so blue_ and she was _so beautiful_ and Lexa wondered if it was possible to get the wind knocked out of you just by looking at someone. She could feel eyes on her, Anya and Raven were watching them both curiously, but she ignored everything happening outside the bubble that was the bench seat she was sharing with Clarke.

“Yeah.” Clarke smiled at Lexa and she was definitely positive the air in her lungs was gone, might never ever return if Clarke kept smiling at her like _that_ , like maybe...

“Will it just be us, or...?”

“I mean, that would be the plan, yeah... unless I should invite those two.” She pointed at their friends who were still staring at them from across the lane.

“No, not them.” Lexa shook her head.

“I’m not bringing Madi-”

“Oh, Clarke no - I wouldn’t expect you to, I mean... no that’s... I just meant, the weird meat guy. He won’t be joining us, will he?”

“Marcus?” Clarke laughed. “No. A couple of weekends was enough for him, I think.”

“He said you were in mourning over a horse.”

“She _was_ a great horse,” Clarke insisted. “But no, that’s not why he was filling in.”

“It was because of me, wasn’t it? And Niylah was informing on me when I showed up.”

“Maybe.” Clarke shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, as if she wasn’t affected either way about whether or not Lexa had been to the market. “So... do you wanna come hang out then?”

“Definitely, yeah. I thought that was kind of a given, honestly.”

______

Lexa woke up on Saturday morning with a smile on her face, an altogether uncommon occurrence, and something that might have been alarming to her if it weren’t for the fact that she knew exactly why it was there - Clarke.

It was a breezy seventy-three degrees outside, so she opted for shorts and a tank top that, paired with her high-top chucks, would be comfortable even as the temperature rose and the sun beat down on them at the market. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, did some light make-up, and was out the door before eight.

She had every intention of meeting Clarke early, helping her set up, spending some time just the two of them before it got crowded, but Clarke had most of the vegetables in crates already; all that was left for Lexa to do was pop the canopy and set up the two camp chairs Clarke had brought along. And gawk a little bit because... even if they had committed to friendship first, Lexa couldn’t help the way her stomach swooped at the sight of Clarke in a light blue sundress - it was long enough to reach her knees, and flowing gently in the breeze, but it was just loose enough up top that Lexa had to pick her own jaw up off the ground when Clarke leaned over to pick up a crate. Lexa smacked herself on the arm as a punishment for the thoughts running rampantly through her mind.

“You okay?”

“There was a bug,” Lexa lied.

Before the market officially opened up, a few of the other vendors came by and got some veggies, and Clarke sent Lexa off to get some snacks from Monty and Jasper (they also had non-chemically altered food, apparently) and a gallon jug of tea from a very kind older woman. When she got back to their stall, Niylah was there talking to Clarke.

“So, the two of you... worked it out?”

“We decided to be friends.” Clarke nodded.

“Poor girl,” Lexa heard Niylah say. “You do love the friend zone, Clarke.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked, annoyance apparent in her tone.

“Nothing.” Niylah backed away. “Let me know if you need anything.”

She bumped into Lexa in her hasty retreat, mumbled sorry, and went on her way. Lexa set the snack down behind the table and handed the tea to Clarke. Clarke opened a small cooler packed full of ice and soda and set the tea inside.

“Grandma can’t get enough of this tea,” Clarke commented as she closed the cooler lid.

“She likes you.”

“Well I should hope so,” Clarke laughed. “I’m her only granddaughter.”

“Not... no, I meant Niylah.”

“Oh,” Clarke waved her off. “We had a brief... encounter once. She’s over it, I promise.”

“She definitely isn’t.” Lexa turned around and looked toward Niylah’s stall - she was looking at Lexa, too.

“Well, she’ll have to be. And don’t go getting jealous, either.”

“I’m not jealous, Clarke. She’s over there and I’m here, with you.”

“Smooth. You know,” Clarke leaned back in her camp chair and studied Lexa, “for someone who doesn’t ‘ _understand the game_ ,’ you certainly know what to say.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Mm.” Clarke nodded and then quirked an eyebrow and asked, “So, are you ready to see the farmer’s market from the other side of the table?”

“I think so,” Lexa replied, taking a sip from her bottled water. “Anything I should know?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty, keep me company. I’ll handle the rest.” Clarke smiled at Lexa and she felt something stir in her stomach, like little bumblebees, buzzing around and pollinating the little hope flowers that had taken root since last night.

The market really picked up between ten and eleven - that was Lexa’s least favorite part of it all, because Clarke was busy and Lexa felt useless sitting behind her, just watching the action unfold. She wondered if, some day in the future, they might be working the market together, Clarke explaining the veggie names and tastes to confused people, and Lexa taking money and bagging up the produce, in practiced precision like old friends... or like... more than friends, maybe.

Every once in awhile, Lexa caught Niylah looking over at them, a subtle smirk playing at her lips, like an ‘I told you so’ directed at Lexa, but she didn’t let it get to her. Maybe Clarke and Niylah had had something once, but she and Clarke had something now, even if it was on a hiatus of sorts. But Lexa didn’t really think Clarke wanted to be friends, not _just_ _friends_ , anyway - she just needed some time to see that she could trust Lexa, that Lexa was worth opening up to, and she would, Lexa was sure of that.

“So,” Clarke said, packing up the crates while Lexa folded up the chairs, “what did you think?”

“I had fun. Not so much when you were busy and I wasn’t allowed to help, but... the view more than made up for that.” Lexa smirked.

“Oh is that so? What view, exactly?”

“I think you know.” Lexa’s eyes flitted down the length of Clarke’s body, stopped at the swell of her ass and lingered, one eyebrow lifted smugly as she did.

Clarke just rolled her eyes playfully and finished loading up the crates, but as she bent down to set them into the truck bed, she did so slowly, turned to Lexa and caught her looking, and raised her eyebrows back at Lexa in a silent question - _Is this the view you mean?_

“What are you doing next weekend then?”

“Hanging out with you, I think?” Lexa tried to keep her voice even so as not to give away how excited she was at the prospect of sitting in the hot sun next to Clarke for hours doing absolutely nothing but enjoying her company.

“Maybe.” Clarke shut the bed of her truck and leaned against. “I had a good time today.”

“Me too. Thanks for inviting me along.”

“Thanks for coming,” Clarke laughed. “Alright, it shouldn’t be this hard to say goodbye. Take off, and uh... I’ll text you, probably.”

“You totally will.” Lexa watched Clarke open her truck door and start to climb in. “Drive safe, Clarke.”

She watched Clarke pull away and barrel down the dirt road in the opposite direction she would be taking home. She still didn’t know where Clarke lived, only that it was far enough out that getting her to come to the city during the week was next to impossible, something Raven explained the night they had all gone bowling (apparently they had wanted to go on Wednesday night, something about better beer specials, but Clarke wouldn’t). Lexa imagined it must be tough for Clarke, to work all week long and all day Saturday, somehow make time to care for Madi, and get out and have fun with her friends... or date, maybe. But she was more determined than ever to prove to Clarke that the pull she was feeling, that they were both feeling, _meant something more_.

______

Saturday at the farmer’s market quickly turned into a two-woman operation. Clarke only came out every third week of the month, always on Fridays, and a whole group of her friends would come out - sometimes bowling, sometimes pool, but she was always gone before the rest of the group, out by eleven and on the road home. Still, Lexa cherished any moment she got to spend with Clarke, and they were definitely getting closer, if not _biblically_ closer like Lexa would like.

The most recent outing was to a biker bar that Anya and Raven frequented. Clarke pulled up wearing ripped jeans, a plain white tee covered by a leather jacket that she discarded almost as soon as she stepped inside the stuffy, smoke-filled room. Lexa hated the way it smelled, but they found their way to a couple of pool tables near the back of the bar where it was less smoke and more stale beer, which was only arguably a little bit better.

Clarke had been standing almost too close to Lexa the entire night, only stepping out of her space to make a shot - she was unusually good at pool for someone who said she avoided places like that if she could (going home to her grandparents’ farm house smelling like cheap alcohol and cigarettes didn’t go over well, she explained).

“How are you so good at this?” Lexa asked after Clarke sank two more balls.

“I’m from a small town, babe,” she replied. “Not much to do but hang out at the one bar we have, or the bowling alley.”

The nickname slip did not go unnoticed by Lexa, but she had heard Clarke call Raven babe on occasion, too, and while she wanted it to mean something else, she was pretty sure it meant they were friends.

“That explains a lot, actually. So bowling, pool, what else do you get up to in... wherever it is you live?”

“I love that you’re not a local,” Clarke laughed. “You really have no idea where I live, do you?”

“I do not, no.” Lexa shook her head and stepped away from Clarke to line up a shot.

She missed the shot, heard Raven laugh while Anya grumbled about being on her team, and turned back around to face Clarke.

“You didn’t answer my question. What else do you do?”

“I hang out with livestock and vegetables, mostly. Sorry I’m not more exciting.” She bumped her hip into Lexa gently and nudged her out the way.

“I think you’re plenty exciting, Clarke,” she said softly.

She meant it, too, because she was definitely excited when she was around Clarke. Sometimes, at the market, their fingers would brush when they would both reach for a bag and a little lightning bolt would run through Lexa’s body. And then there was the way Clarke had been getting more and more confident with casual touches and lingering looks that set Lexa’s entire body on fire.

Last weekend, after they’d finished setting up, Clarke angled her camp chair across from Lexa and propped her legs up on Lexa’s lap, didn’t pull away when Lexa let her hands come to rest on her calves, or when she drew little designs on her legs with her fingers as they talked about nothing, anything, everything.

“Corner pocket,” Clarke called before lining up her last shot.

Raven was elated with her choice in partner, while Anya continued to grumble lightly at how pitiful Lexa’s pool game was. It was an easy shot, one that Clarke made without much effort, but Lexa was more focused on Clarke’s curves and the fit of her jeans and-

“Quit staring, Casanova,” Anya snarked as she came to stand next to Lexa. “They just kicked our asses. I thought you said you were good at pool.”

“Pretty sure I never said that,” Lexa countered.

“Whatever,” Anya waved her off. “I’m going to get us another pitcher. You good to stick around a little longer, Clarke?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing at her wrist watch. “Maybe another half hour or so.”

Lexa leaned back against the pool table and watched as Anya and Raven sauntered over to the bar. Clarke moved closer to her, stepped into the space between her legs, and reached behind Lexa to grab the little blue chalk - they weren’t going to play another game, so there was really no reason for Clarke to grab it, unless she just wanted an excuse to crowd Lexa’s space...

She didn’t make a move to back up. Clarke was so close, Lexa could feel Clarke’s breath against her neck, the heat radiating off of her body as she stood there, too close to be anything less than purposeful, daring. Their eyes locked and it was charged, Lexa watched as Clarke licked her lips, eyes darting between Lexa’s eyes and her lips, and she wondered if maybe-

“Clarke,” she whispered.

“I know.” She nodded, pressed her hand against Lexa’s chest and burrowed gently into her side. Lexa worried Clarke could feel the way her heart was hammering violently against her rib cage, but if she could, she didn’t mention it. After a moment, Clarke leaned back and their eyes locked again.

“I really want to kiss you,” Lexa admitted quietly.

There was a nod, or maybe there wasn’t - Lexa couldn’t be sure, but Clarke swallowed and bit her bottom lip, and then with a heavy sigh, stepped back.

“I... I’m not ready. Not yet.” Clarke broke eye contact and looked down at her feet. Lexa knew there was more she wanted to say, but she didn’t think she should push it.

Clarke didn’t stay much longer after that, chalked it up to an early morning and a long drive, and even though they’d become accustomed to hugging goodbye, she left without one. Lexa couldn’t help but feel like maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, that maybe for all the steps forward they’d taken, that admittance had been a giant leap backward.

She wondered if it was how Costia felt every time they hung out, thought about the weird kind of looks Costia gave her sometimes, the nagging feeling that there was more she wanted to say to Lexa... and enough time had passed that, maybe... maybe she should try talking to Costia about it, salvage their friendship, if she could.

_______

The knock on Costia’s door was light, tentative, but she called out for Lexa to come in, so she did, slowly.

“Hey,” she started.

Costia looked up from her computer, surprised to see Lexa standing in her doorway. “Hi.”

“Can we, uh, talk?”

“About what? Did you get the projections I emailed you?”

“Oh, uh... yeah. No, I didn’t mean work. I just... I wanted to come and apologize, officially.”

“Lexa,” Costia sighed and pushed away from her desk to stand. “I’m okay, you know?”

“Yeah, I just... I think I know how you were feeling and-”

“Oh? Things not going well with the blonde then?”

“Clarke. Um, well we’re just... friends, for now.”

Costia closed the distance between them and placed a gentle hand on Lexa’s forearm. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“It...” Lexa let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, it does. But... it doesn’t, I mean. I like hanging out with her, so... it’s fine. It’s just-”

“Not what you want.”

“No,” Lexa admitted shyly. “And I’m sorry, Cos. It must have been really difficult, spending all of that time with me when I... didn’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“That wasn’t really the hard part, Lexa. It was... finding out like that, that you were dating someone. It hurt because... I thought we were close, close enough that you could be honest with me, even if-”

“You weren’t entirely honest with me, either.”

“No, I know. But I think... I think deep down I knew that you... that I wasn’t enough for you, you know? We’d be a good match, Lexa. But we’d never be exciting. And you... you want exciting. Someone who will keep you guessing, make you work for it. And I guess... that’s why you like Clarke.”

“That’s not true.” Lexa shook her head. “I mean, she keeps me on my toes, that’s true, but... it’s not _why_ I like her, or... not the only reason.”

“Look, you wanted to apologize and that’s great - I forgive you. But... I don’t really think I’m there yet, okay? I want us to be friends again, and I’m sure we will be, but... maybe just give me a little more time.”

“Okay.” Lexa nodded and pulled the door open. “Have a good day, then.”

Costia definitely still seemed a little bit bitter, but Lexa didn’t blame her. And she understood that hearing about all of the reasons Lexa preferred Clarke to her wasn’t going to help anything. But, she said she wanted to be friends again, someday, and that was enough. If Lexa had gone into Costia’s office hoping for some advice, she’d just to have to accept that that was never going to happen.

_______

Between conference calls and late night planning sessions, Lexa hadn’t had much time to talk to Clarke since their last outing when she considered kissing Clarke. She only hoped that Clarke understood it was because of work and not the sting of ‘not yet.’

Because, sure it did sting a little bit, but... there was also a kind of promise in that particular choice of words. Not yet, but _someday_. And someday seemed a lot closer to reality than not yet because even as Clarke said it, she was definitely thinking about kissing Lexa, too. Even with that knowledge lingering in the back of her mind, nothing could prepare Lexa for the text she got Friday night.

**Clarke:** so, change of plans  
Madi is coming along tomorrow

**Lexa:** Oh, okay.   
I guess, I’ll see you next weekend then.

**Clarke:** oh, um ok...

**Lexa:** Unless?

**Clarke:** well you can still come  
if you want  
i just... wasn’t sure you’d want to

**Lexa:** I will see you tomorrow, then!

_Holy shit_. Lexa was going to meet Clarke’s daughter tomorrow. Actually meet her, officially. It felt like a big step, a really big step, because they weren’t just friends, not really. And if Clarke was letting Lexa into Madi’s life, even if only in a small way, then it must mean that Clarke was starting to trust her.

Lexa wanted to put her best foot forward, and that meant choosing the right outfit, for starters. She’d worn a few revealing outfits in the past, shorter shorts, tight tank tops, but today she needed to look a little more... respectable. It was supposed to be cooler than usual, a cold front coming in from somewhere or something, but Lexa was thankful for it - she opted for a pair of jeans and a lightweight, short-sleeve pink button-up.

Clarke and Madi were already set up and sitting in their camp chairs when Lexa arrived. Clarke was leaning over Madi, pointing at something in the workbook she was holding, but she looked up and smiled at Lexa as soon as she heard her approach.

“Hey.” Clarke’s smile was radiant, as always, and Lexa’s breath caught just a little bit at the sight.

“Hi,” she said and smiled back.

“Madi,” Clarke nudged her daughter to get her to look up at Lexa, “this is my friend, Lexa. She’s going to help me out today.”

“Hi,” the little girl greeted and waved at Lexa. She stuck her hand out and waited for Lexa to step closer to her so she could shake it.

“Hi,” Lexa parroted back, taking the little hand in hers for a quick shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, kiddo.” Clarke pushed Madi’s hair out of her eyes. “Keep working on that and I’ll come check on you in a little bit,” Clarke moved toward the table where she had everything set up and waited for Lexa to follow behind her. “Math,” she sighed dramatically. “She hates math.”

“Oh, math is the worst,” Lexa agreed. “I was much more adept at history, myself. And gym.”

“History, Lexa? Really?” Clarke nudged her shoulder and whispered, “Nerd.”

“And gym!”

“She does pretty well with reading and English, but math and science are like sworn enemies of hers. It’s hard as hell to get her to work on them - she can be really stubborn sometimes.”

“I wonder where she gets that from,” Lexa teased.

“Oh ha ha.” Clarke swatted Lexa’s arm.

Soon, the market was open and they stayed fairly busy. Clarke checked on Madi a couple of times, but for the most part, she seemed fine, if not a little bored. She finished up her homework and was reading a book, munching on some carrots and kicking her feet happily. A lull around noon allowed for Clarke and Lexa to grab a quick snack, too.

“You know, when I first invited you out, I didn’t mean for you to start working the market.”

“I like it.” Lexa shrugged. “We work pretty well together.”

They did. A new group of people found their way to the market and traffic picked up again forcing Lexa to abandon her sandwich. Clarke was busy talking vegetables and taking money when two little feet hit the ground and tore over to them.

“Momma!” Madi crashed into Clarke’s leg and tugged at her shirt. “Can I go play?” She pointed to a grassy field behind a row of fruit stands.

“Not right now, baby. Momma’s busy-”

“I can take her,” Lexa offered without thought.

“Are... you sure?”

“I think I can handle it, Clarke.” Lexa nodded, her voice sounding much more sure about that than she actually felt.

“I dunno, babe... She’s very in to pretend sword fights right now-”

“I am excellent with pretend swords.”

“Okay... if you’re sure.” She looked at Lexa with one eyebrow up, before turning to Madi and asking, “Madi, is it okay if Lexa plays with you?”

Madi looked at her curiously and for the first time since she arrived at the market, Lexa felt her nerves kick back up.

“Yep,” she decided quickly, taking Lexa’s hand and pulling her along to the field.

One quick glance back at Clarke told Lexa it had been a good suggestion - the adoration she saw in her deep, blue eyes was almost too much to handle.

Lexa’s heart beat quickened during the short walk to the field, her inexperience with children suddenly feeling very apparent, and her mouth went dry as she struggled to think of anything to talk to the young girl about.

“So,” Lexa tried, but _God_ she felt so awkward.

“We can play swords, okay?”

“Okay,” Lexa agreed. Clarke was not kidding, then.

“You get to be the bad guy,” Madi declared proudly.

She unsheathed her pretend sword and waited for Lexa to do the same. It took a couple of back-and-forths for Madi to find her footing, an unfortunate part of being at that in-between stage of growth spurts, still gangly and awkward and moving before her feet had caught up to her body. But once she found a rhythm, it was surprisingly difficult for Lexa to keep up. Madi was quick, and tiny, and the constant action had Lexa sweating. She wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, the momentary lapse in concentration enough for Madi to take advantage and lunge forward - she ran her pretend sword right through Lexa’s abdomen, pulled back and stood proudly before Lexa, a shit-eating grin on her face as she waited.

“Oh!” Suddenly it hit Lexa that she was supposed to be dead.

Lexa dropped her imaginary sword, clutched her stomach and gurgled, and began to die a painful and dramatic death. Her knees hit the grass and she reached out desperately for Madi, who yelped and jumped away just as Lexa twisted and fell exaggeratedly onto her back, arms and legs sprawled out. She let out one last gasp before letting her head fall to the side, eyes closed and tongue stuck out for good measure.

Madi fell into a fit of giggles and Lexa counted it as a job well done.

“Ready to head back?” Lexa asked, climbing back to her feet.

Madi nodded, still laughing when she reached up and took hold of Lexa’s hand and let Lexa lead her back to the tent where Clarke was propped up against the table watching them.

“Did you have fun?” She directed the question at Madi, but her eyes didn’t leave Lexa, curiously looking her over as if asking Lexa the same thing.

“Yeah!” Madi nodded vigorously as she wrapped herself around Clarke’s leg - she seemed to really like that spot and Lexa wondered if it was a comfort thing, like the baby blanket she carried around when she was little. “I kicked her butt, Momma.”

“Did you now?”

“Uh-huh, I did.” Madi puffed her chest out with pride.

“She did,” Lexa agreed, laughing lightly. “I almost had her a couple of times, but she proved to be a far more formidable foe than I gave her credit for.”

“I’m thirsty.” Madi tugged at Clarke’s shirt just as another group of people walked up to their table.

“I’ll get them,” Lexa offered. “Go on,” she urged Clarke away so she could take care of her daughter - the appreciative smile she received made her knees weak, but she recovered quickly and stepped up to the table to offer her assistance.

The rest of the afternoon was fairly quiet. Madi went back to her book, absorbed in whatever story she was reading, leaving Clarke and Lexa to talk about nothing, anything, like they usually did on Saturday afternoons.

“But I didn’t have the ability to stay in, get the DVM and all... but Dr. Jackson told me to get certified, said I would have a job with him if I did. And ideally, at some point, I’ll be able to go back to school and get the doctorate, but,” Clarke shrugged, “it works for now.”

“I think that’s really admirable, Clarke. You put her first, that much is obvious, but... not a lot of parents do.”

“She likes you,” Clarke said, eyes on her daughter, still happily reading and kicking her feet under her chair.

“I don’t know about that.”

“No, she does. I’ve caught her a couple of times now, when she thinks we aren’t looking, she watches you.”

“Well,” Lexa looked over at the little girl, “I did die with very dramatic flair.”

“No,” Clarke laughed and shook her head. “You wanted to play with her. She doesn’t... it’s not like she’s around many of my friends, you know? It’s me, her grandparents, people from school, but... there hasn’t been anybody... in a long time.”

“Well, then consider me honored to have had the opportunity to die by her sword, and... you know, to meet her, officially.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Clarke said playfully, but Lexa knew it was no joke.

“I won’t,” Lexa said with more conviction than the moment necessarily called for.

Once her truck was packed up, the A/C on and Madi situated in her seat, Clarke walked back to where Lexa was standing, idly picking at the hem of her shirt.

“Thank you... for today.”

“I had a lot of fun.” Lexa smiled at Clarke, glanced to the truck, and back again. “I like her, too, for the record. She’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, she is.” Clarke glanced to the truck before admitting, “You still terrify me.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that. I mean, I lost an imaginary sword fight, Clarke. There’s nothing scary about me.”

“It’s not you... It’s, it’s the way you make me feel. How I feel about you is... well, terrifying, for lack of a better word.”

“Oh.” Lexa nodded once in understanding. “Then... you terrify me, too. Except... I’m not actually scared.”

“Mm...” Clarke hummed. “Well, that’s good then.”

She gave Lexa’s hand a gentle squeeze and then tugged at it gently, pulled Lexa forward until she was close, close enough to press her lips against the corner of Lexa’s mouth - like maybe she thought better of really kissing her, what with Madi in the truck, but like she couldn’t settle for just a cheek kiss either - opted for somewhere in between, like the line between friendship and more that they’d been teetering on, crossing little by little.

“Thank you again.” Clarke let go of Lexa’s hand and turned toward her truck.

“Let me know when you’re home safe?”

“I will.”

______

“Hey, so... Raven caught a bug or something. We’re not going out this weekend,” Anya informed Lexa on Thursday. She’d been really looking forward to spending more time with Clarke, especially after the week she’d had. But they didn’t hang out just the two of them except on Saturdays at the market, and it was hardly just the two of them then, what with all of the people around shopping.

“Oh, okay.” Lexa nodded and tried not to let it sound so obvious how bothered she was by it.

“You, uh... you should ask Clarke to hang out anyway.”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed in response.

“There’s a drive-in movie theater outside of the city,” Anya added, a hint of mischief in her voice. “I hear she’s a fan, and... it’s Rom-Com Double Feature weekend, or so I’m told...”

Anya stepped out of her office before Lexa could pry any additional information from her. A quick google search told her that it was about thirty minutes away and that it was indeed Rom-Com weekend... She could only assume the information came to Anya through Raven, and if Raven was feeding her info like that, it must mean...

**Lexa:** So Raven is sick apparently

**Clarke:** yeah i heard  
bummer too  
i was looking forward to getting out

**Lexa:** Well... I was thinking...  
We could still hang out.  
See a movie or something?

**Clarke:** what did you have in mind?

**Lexa:** The Sky View Drive-In?  
I don’t know if that’s far from you, though

**Clarke:** it’s not, actually...

**Lexa:** So?

**Clarke:** okay yeah :)

It was set to be a warm evening, low sixties - a temperature that would have felt vastly different on the east coast. Lexa grabbed a lightweight zip-up hoodie anyway, just in case, and was out the door with plenty of time. She didn’t expect Clarke to call her while she was pulling up, tell her to just park somewhere and wait, that she’d be there in a few and her truck was better situated for the drive-in. Lexa didn’t have to wait long before Clarke was pulling up beside her and gesturing for her to hop in.

Lexa was never one to back into a parking space - not that she wouldn’t pull through if she could - but Clarke, apparently, was very adept at it. She rolled up to a spot near the back and maneuvered into the spot backward with ease. It was impressive, and somewhat ridiculous how hot Lexa found it, but... it was Clarke and that was the best explanation she could come up with to rationalize it.

“Come on,” Clarke opened her door and hopped out.

Lexa followed Clarke’s lead and hopped out of the truck, walked around to the back and almost choked on her own tongue when Clarke dropped the tailgate revealing a makeshift bed. There were several mismatched blankets covering what appeared to be an air mattress, and there were multiple pillows tossed on top of it all.

Clarke pulled herself up and into the bed of her truck before extending an arm and hoisting Lexa up as well.

“I figured it would be more comfortable this way,” Clarke said as she sat down on the bed. “Oh, and I brought snacks.” She pointed to the cooler in the corner that Lexa had completely missed, far too focused on the bed and the beautiful blonde stretching out on it.

If Lexa looked unsteady climbing over the air mattress, it was because... she was. Incredibly so. But Clarke seemed completely nonplussed to be sharing the small bed with Lexa. In fact, she was already propped up on two pillows and looking at Lexa expectantly, another pillow beside her on the bed and the blanket in her outstretched hand ready to share.

Lexa gulped down the nerves and sat down beside Clarke gently, the mattress shifting under her weight and forcing Clarke to lean into her as she did.

“Sorry,” she said, settling in beside her.

“No worries.” Clarke shrugged and pulled the blanket up so it was covering them both.

It wasn’t very long into the movie that Clarke’s hand found its way to Lexa’s, their fingers interlaced under the blanket and her head resting comfortably against Lexa’s shoulder. Not much longer after that Clarke had let go in favor of wrapping herself around Lexa’s core, Lexa’s arm around her tightly and fingers drawing patterns on Clarke’s back.

The end of the first movie brought Clarke out of her cozy spot against Lexa - she rummaged through the cooler for a bottle of water and a bag of candy - and Lexa tried to ignore the cold shiver she felt as soon as Clarke was gone.

“Want some?” Clarke asked around a mouthful of peanut M&Ms.

“No thanks.” Lexa just wanted Clarke close again, warm and cozy and wrapped up in her arms.

Apparently satisfied with her snack, Clarke set the bag down and scooted back up the bed toward Lexa, allowing herself to be enveloped once again in Lexa’s embrace. She hummed contentedly as she shifted a little bit closer and pulled the blanket back up.

Halfway through the second movie, Clarke was fast asleep. Her hand found its own way up Lexa’s t-shirt and was splayed across Lexa’s abdomen, and one of her legs was haphazardly thrown over Lexa’s lap. Lexa tried to stay awake, for safety or something, but it was too easy to get lost in the comfort and warmth that was Clarke Griffin.

The rumble of engines nearby startled them both awake.

“Shit,” Clarke gasped. “Was I asleep?”

“Little bit, yeah... but-”

“No,” she grumbled and rubbed at her forehead. “I’m sorry, Lexa. I did not,” Clarke shook her head and then mumbled to herself, “Man... I knew I was rusty, but falling asleep? Really?”

Rusty? At watching movies? No. At dating?

“Clarke was... was this is a date?”

“Not... no, or... I mean...” Her face flushed as she stumbled on words in search of an answer.

The smile spread across Lexa’s face without her permission, not that she wouldn’t have granted it easily. Clarke was staring down at her lap, still searching for something to say maybe, when Lexa reached a careful hand up and gently cupped Clarke’s cheek. Uncertain blue eyes locked on confident green ones and... something shifted. Maybe it was the air, or the atmosphere, or... just Clarke. Whatever it was, Lexa could see it - the way Clarke’s eyes turned darker and brighter all at once and then-

All of the air escaped Lexa’s lungs, the force of Clarke’s kiss more than she had been ready for, and everything she had been hoping for. She could feel Clarke’s tongue brush lightly against her bottom lip, seeking entrance she was so ready to give, when the loud rumble of another engine broke them apart.

Clarke sat back in stunned silence. Lexa searched her eyes, willed Clarke not to panic with a gentle squeeze of her hand, and then, “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Clarke said softly.

“No?” was all Lexa managed to squeak out.

Clarke just shook her head and swallowed. She pulled Lexa up and helped her climb out of the truck, and after Clarke shut the tailgate, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and looked away.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke muttered, face still flush from what had happened.

“I’m not.”

Lexa’s heart beat wildly the entire drive home, was still threatening to pound out of her chest when she laid her head down that night and thought about what tomorrow at the market might be like.

It was relatively uneventful, much to Lexa’s disappointment. Although Clarke was more touchy than she had ever been before, she didn’t mention the kiss and didn’t make any moves to steal another one. But she was smiling a lot more than usual, and Lexa hoped she might, maybe have had something to do with the overly chipper mood Clarke was in. And when they said goodbye, Lexa left with a heart full of hopeful warmth and butterflies flapping wildly in her stomach.

______

The drive to Blake’s took Lexa out of the city and down a gravel road lined with fences and farmland. She was nervous to be going to a place so close to Clarke’s heart - and very near her house, she thought, although she couldn’t be completely sure. When Raven had suggested it, said she was dying for a T-bone and Anya admitted she hadn’t had a good steak in quite awhile, Lexa wasn’t sure she’d be invited along.

The outside of the restaurant was a dark brick that was crumbling in some spots, but the sign near the side of road looked freshly painted - **Blake’s** in bright red block letters caught her attention easily and Lexa eased into the dirt-mixed-with-gravel parking lot and pulled up beside a familiar truck.

“You made it.” Clarke smiled and enveloped Lexa in a quick, but firm hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Lexa expected the smoky smell from the large grills in the back of the restaurant, but she had no way of preparing for the sight of a four foot by eight foot portrait of a black, shaggy-haired bull, hanging above the bar.

“Is that-” Lexa was pointing at the framed bull when Clarke replied.

“Bellamy, yep,” Clarke settled her hands on her hips and looked up at the picture proudly.

“He looks...” Lexa searched for words.

“Majestic?” Raven piped up, walking up to them and throwing her arms around Clarke in greeting.

“Not what I was going to say, no...” _Aggressive_ was more the word that had come to mind.

“Well, he is.” Raven’s hands mocked Clarke’s and rested on her hips, but Anya seemed to share Lexa’s opinion on the matter. “Babe, come on! If I was a lady cow... he could like, _get it_.”

“You are so weird, Rae.” Clarke pushed past her friends and headed for a booth in the back of the restaurant.

“What?” Raven shouted after her. “I said _if I was a cow_! Not like, as a person! Don’t make it weird, Clarke!”

“It’s already weird,” Anya whispered as they followed behind Lexa and Clarke.

Clarke slid into the faded red booth and pulled Lexa down beside her, their thighs touching and fingers intertwined under the table, and she slid a menu over for Lexa to look over.

“Speaking of weird,” Raven said as she plopped down into the booth and slid over so Anya could join her, “Pretty sure I saw Marcus with Abby last Wednesday. Or, well, his truck was parked on the side street by her apartment.”

“Are you stalking Clarke’s mom?” Anya asked.

“No! Her place is on my way into the shop.” Raven glanced over to her best friend. “He does drive the white truck right? It had the ranch logo on the tailgate like yours but-”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No.” Raven shook her head. “I mean, who knows why he was there. I wasn’t implying-”

“Ew, no. No.” Clarke stared down at the table in disbelief.

“Clarke, your mom _is_ a fox. And we already know she’s into ranch hands, on account of, you know... your dad, and she-”

“Is a grown woman and also my mother, so please for the love of all things holy, _stop talking_.”

“Sorry.” Raven shrugged and looked to Lexa. “Stick with that one, though,” she said, pointing at Clarke, “because let me tell you - those women age like a fine wine, okay? Her mother is-”

“Raven!” Clarke buried her face in her hands and groaned audibly.

Raven winked at Lexa and pulled a menu up in front of her face so Clarke could no longer see her. Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hand under the table in subtle reassurance and tried not to seem obviously affected when Clarke rested her head against Lexa’s shoulder and sighed audibly, annoyed by her friend’s antics and taking refuge in the safety of Lexa’s warmth.

Lexa was still struggling to decide between the T-bone (because Raven had not shut up about it) and the six ounce sirloin (because she wasn’t that hungry) when a young dark-haired woman in a messy red apron walked up.

“Well, shit. If it ain’t my two favorite people. And Anya, hey.” She nodded hello. “And... who might this be?”

“That tall drink of water is Lexa.” Raven wiggled her eyebrows as she said it.

“Lexa? Really?”

“That’s me,” she said awkwardly to the woman.

“Well fuck,” she breathed out. “Clarke... finally giving a city girl a chance. I’m proud of you, babe.”

Clarke’s cheeks flushed and she dipped her face away from Lexa, eyes on the menu as if she hadn’t been to Blake’s a thousand times, didn’t already have it memorized. She let go of Lexa’s hand in favor of resting her palm flat against Lexa’s thigh, as if that would somehow help to calm her, when in reality it sped her heartbeat up from lightly thudding to dangerously pounding against her ribs.

“They’re so cute, too,” Raven added, nodding along. “Oh, Lexa - this is Octavia. And this is her restaurant.”

“Oh, wow. Very cool. I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about the food here.”

“Couldn’t do any of it without Bellamy.” She smiled. “Or at least, not without his offspring. Best beef you’ll get in a hundred miles,” she declared as if it were fact, though Lexa was sure it wasn’t.

Octavia seemed nice enough, if not a little rough around the edges, but she and Raven were clearly two of the people who knew Clarke best, if the jokes they told at her expense were anything to go by. And despite the blush on her face, Clarke seemed to be enjoying it - and the good-natured ribbing gave Lexa even more insight into who Clarke really was. Maybe that was why Clarke allowed it to go on for so long, content to draw lazy patterns on Lexa’s leg as they all laughed at memories of her in high school.

After they ate (and okay, Lexa did have to admit that it was a really fucking good steak), Clarke scooted closer and pulled Lexa’s arm around her waist, let Lexa’s hand sneak up her shirt slowly as she picked at the hem of Lexa’s shorts. It was way too cozy to be anything _friendly_ , that much was abundantly clear (especially to Raven who kicked Clarke under the table and whispered ‘cute’ too loud for it to be a secret).

And when they all finally parted ways that night, Clarke waited until Raven’s motorcycle (and subsequently Anya as well) had disappeared from sight completely before crowding Lexa against her eco-friendly sedan and kissing her until neither of them could breathe and they had to stop for fear they both might pass out.

“Mm...” Clarke pressed her lips against Lexa’s cheek before taking one full step back, her hand still holding Lexa’s by the pinky finger. “I could get used to that.”

“Me too,” Lexa admitted, still breathless.

“Text me, when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” Lexa agreed. “And you too.”

“I’m like... ten minutes up the road, babe.” Clarke’s eyes rolled a bit.

“Still,” Lexa pleaded. “Please?”

“Yeah, alright. So, um... see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Lexa tugged Clarke’s hand gently and kissed her again, for good measure, and because she could - and she was sure she drove home, but it felt a lot more like floating on a cloud than actual sitting in a car.

______

“Clarke, give it back! Quit laughing at me,” Lexa pouted.

She regretted the decision to give Clarke her phone almost immediately. It all started because she had, earlier in the week, stumbled upon a couple of as-of-yet unopened boxes of mementos and discovered an old photo album - she snapped pictures of her pictures, just the cute ones, to maybe show Clarke (but not maybe, she definitely planned on showing Clarke).

“What is even happening here?” Clarke held the phone up revealing a much younger Lexa standing next to a stuffed squid nearly the same size as she was, a smile plastered on her face so big, Clarke could see that she was missing her two front teeth.

“It was my birthday,” Lexa explained. “Gustus took me to the aquarium.”

“You were so fucking adorable, oh my gosh.” The compliment forced a deep crimson color to Lexa’s cheeks. “What happened?” Clarke teased.

“Hey!” Lexa tried to snatch the phone back, but failed. “I’m still adorable,” she pouted as Clarke continued to swipe through her phone.

Baby photos quickly turned into the pictures Lexa had taken back home - Lexa at clubs, bars, museums - and for whatever reason, something seemed to give Clarke pause. She handed the phone back to Lexa and looked away.

After a cursory glance through the photos, Lexa didn’t noticed anything amiss - no photos with an ex she had forgotten to delete, nothing out of the ordinary at all, nothing that should have upset Clarke, and yet...

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Clarke waved her off and tried to change the subject (her go-to move when she wanted to avoid feelings). “So, how’s work going?”

“No, don’t do that. Clarke, would you just talk to me?”

“I just... I don’t know what we’re doing, Lexa.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...” She gestured to Lexa’s phone as if that explained anything. “You’re so obviously a city girl and I... I’m not. Never will be. And so... how can we? We... we don’t fit.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“But... how can you say that? You’re all... glitz and glamour, fancy dress clothes and, fuck Lexa. You look straight out of a damn high fashion magazine in all of those pictures.”

“Oh, please.” Lexa sighed heavily - again? “Clarke, I have enough flannel to last an entire winter season back home. And four different types of boots - and I don’t mean fancy black ones, either. Hiking boots, Clarke. I love being outside and-”

“And you also have more aviators than anyone I know.”

“So? I look good in them.” Lexa flashed Clarke a shit-eating grin. “I’m not trying to argue with you about this every time I see you. If you want to know if I fit... you know what you have to do.”

“What? What do I have to do?”

“Invite me to the farm.”

“Lexa,” Clarke warned.

“I’m serious. Because,” Lexa pulled Clarke in and wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist, “from where I stand, you fit pretty well.”

“Mm, is that so?” Clarke tried to fight the small smile that threatened to break across her lips.

“Yeah.” Lexa nodded. “So... let me show you.”

“Let you... work the farm, you mean?”

“If it’ll help, then... yes.”

“Okay.” Clarke bit her bottom lip in thought. “Are you... can you take a day off?”

“Clarke,” Lexa emphasized. “I’m the boss. I can do whatever I want.”

“Oh is that so? Because I thought Anya was the-”

“We’re like... it’s- We’re on the same level. Whatever. I can take a day off. When?”

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck. “Wednesday. And wear something you’re not particularly attached to.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna steal my clothes?” Lexa’s eyebrow twitched up suggestively.

“Not a chance. But,” she placed a delicate kiss to Lexa’s jaw, “I am gonna get you _very_ dirty.”

_____

As the city faded away in her rear view mirror, Lexa felt nerves start to settle in her gut. She loved nature, that much was true, but she had no idea how to ranch, and the google searches did nothing to calm her down. Five miles out, according to her navigation, she passed an old man sitting beside the road with a big handmade sign offering “Drive-threw Prayer” and, despite the obvious spelling error, Lexa wondered (briefly and not-at-all seriously) if she should stop - maybe a little prayer might be the thing she’d need to ensure today was a success.

Lexa continued to follow the directions from her in-car navigation until she pulled up in front of a large bricked archway with ‘ **ARKADIA CATTLE RANCH** ’ in black steel letters hanging above an open gate. ‘You have arrived at your destination’ felt like a lie, even if her GPS had never led her astray before. She wiped her sweaty palms on the fabric of her jeans before gripping the wheel and turning up the gravel road.

Large trees lined the driveway on either side as it twisted and turned for several minutes (that felt like hours to a very nervous Lexa) until a gorgeous white-brick house (estate, more like) appeared up ahead.

Lexa didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t that - the two-story sprawling house with a wrap-around porch and columns supporting a balcony on the second floor looked like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine - not at all like the wooden barn-type house she’d been picturing. It didn’t help that Clarke talked about the farm like it made her somehow less than Lexa... and looking at it now, clearly Clarke was anything but.

Maybe Clarke had embellished the farm as a way to deter Lexa, make it seem less than ideal so Lexa wouldn’t pursue her, but... if Lexa was honest, it looked more like a dream than anything she’d ever seen before.

She followed the driveway around the side of the house where a large barn loomed in the distance. Clarke’s truck was parked under a tree larger than any else lining the driveway, just to the left of an old tire swing, and Lexa ventured a guess she could park beside it. She pulled her phone out expecting to find a text from Clarke - she’d fired one off when she was close - but there was nothing waiting for her.

“Clarke!” she heard a woman’s voice call out, startling her enough that she almost dropped her phone. “Your girlfriend is here!”

Lexa stepped out of the vehicle tentatively and spotted a woman sitting in a wooden rocking chair on the porch, glass of tea in hand. She could feel the woman’s stare even before she had fully emerged from her vehicle, but the weight of it once she had was unnerving. But, the woman simply offered her a smile and a wave as Clarke burst through the side door and onto the porch.

“Hey,” she greeted Lexa with a bright smile that lit her insides on fire.

Lexa’s next steps appeared far more confident than she actually felt. She waved back at the woman as she ascended the steps and let herself fall into Clarke’s embrace. The hug was warm and welcoming and - did that woman call her Clarke’s girlfriend?

“Grandma, meet Lexa,” Clarke said as she stepped back and allowed the two women to shake hands. “Lexa, this is Clara. My grandmother.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Lexa said, polite and well-mannered like her parents raised her.

“The pleasure is all mine.” The woman smiled sweetly at her. “It’s so nice to see that smile of hers again.” She nodded her head toward Clarke who blushed furiously at the comment.

“Grandma,” she pleaded.

“What, honey? It’s the truth. So many years spent taking care of everyone else, it’s just nice is all, to see you let someone take care of you.”

“That’s not- I’m... it’s-” Clarke was shushed by her grandmother before she could come up with anything else.

“I’m not sure if you know,” she said conspiratorially to Lexa, “but she hasn’t really dated much. Not since-”

“Okay!” Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and tugged her away before Clara could reveal anything more. “Very busy day!” Clarke called back as she pulled Lexa out into the yard.

Lexa ventured a guess that they were headed for the barn, something Clarke confirmed as she linked their hands together and appraised Lexa’s look. She opted for a pair of well-worn skinny jeans, a red t-shirt, and the old pair of hiking boots that were perfectly broken in but a little worn out in the soles. The light gray flannel she had wrapped around her waist was just for good measure - it wasn’t cold and she didn’t think she would need it, but the aesthetic kind of worked for her. The aviators, however, she left in the car.

Clarke, on the other hand, looked like a vision straight out of Lexa’s daydreams. The light blue cotton shirt was blowing lightly in the breeze as they pushed on toward the barn, and her jeans hugged every curve perfectly, and Lexa would have stroked out if it weren’t for Clarke’s hand in hers anchoring her to reality.

“What did she mean?” Lexa asked, curious and knowing she had some time before they reached the barn.

“Huh?” Clarke pretended not to understand the question.

“Your grandma, she said you haven’t dated much _since_... since when?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” Lexa sighed and let go of Clarke’s hand, frustrated that, for every time she broke a wall down, another one seemed to build itself back up.

“Since who,” Clarke decided to elaborate. “He was a fancy lawyer from the city, full of charm and charisma. Madi was only a toddler then. And... and he wanted me to be someone I’m not.”

“How so?”

“Uh, well he hated the farm, and he wanted me to move to the city. Said he would hire a nanny for Madi... wanted to travel the world with me. It was exciting, at first, you know? The kind of life he could offer, but-”

“But you chose Madi.”

“And I always will.” Clarke’s tone was biting, a warning Lexa thought.

“He shouldn’t have asked that of you,” Lexa replied, her choice of words careful. _She_ would never ask that of Clarke, but... saying so didn’t feel like the right response in that moment, and if she could, she wanted to keep a healthy distance between herself and whoever this guy was - it was clear Clarke was already comparing them, Lexa wasn’t going to add to that.

“No, he shouldn’t have,” Clarke agreed. “So, ready for a tour?”

“Definitely,” Lexa nodded enthusiastically.

“Then let’s go,” Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand again and pulled her into the barn.

The meat man, Marcus, was waiting for them in the barn, two horses saddled up and ready to go. The larger brown one walked over to Lexa curiously, sniffed at her shoulder and nudged her. She rubbed at his nose and gently down his neck and wondered what they needed horses for in the first place.

“I think he likes you,” Marcus chuckled.

“Do you... know how to get up there?” Clarke asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Pfft,” Lexa scoffed. “Totally,” she lied. But it seemed easy enough - just one foot in the hold there and a hand on the saddle, and then “Mmph” she was up and sitting comfortably in the saddle like she had done it a thousand times before.

“Wow.” Clarke sounded impressed. She reached for a smaller speckled white and brown horse and saddled up like an old pro.

“Impressed?” Lexa shot her a cocky smile.

“A little, but... mostly just surprised at how... turned on I am. You look good up there.”

Marcus let out a loud cough and slowly backed away from them both. “Have fun, ladies.”

“Thanks, Marcus.” She smiled shyly at the man before tugging at the reins and leading them both out of the barn and back into the large open field.

It didn’t look like they were headed uphill, but after trotting for quite awhile, Clarke pulled to a stop. When Lexa’s horse sidled up next to hers, she was staring out at a vast field full of grazing cows and calves and, off in the distance, what looked like rows and rows of trees just on the other side of a small stream that ran the length of the property.

“Whoa,” Lexa gasped and she took it all in. “Is this all-”

“No, but... I didn’t think I should overwhelm you on your first visit.”

“What? There’s... more?”

“Yeah.” Clarke rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged. She dismounted and Lexa followed, walking into the fields ahead of them.

Learning about the farm was more enthralling than it should have been, but Lexa was soaking up every word, hanging on the smallest detail of this picture-perfect life. And if Clarke kept a tight hold on Lexa’s hand as they strolled lazily through the fields, it just added to the perfect day Lexa was having.

Clarke plopped down in a grassy spot overlooking the groves and pulled Lexa down behind her. She settled between Lexa’s legs comfortably, wrapped up in Lexa’s arms and yeah... they definitely fit, Lexa thought.

“But, initially they wanted to have a dairy farm. Startup cost is too high, it was even back then, so it was just a plain old cattle ranch for years. But you know, it can be hard to maintain, cows can eat you out of land and... money. So, my great-grandparents decided to add crops to stay competitive.”

“So, all of those trees?” Lexa pointed to the groves in the distance.

“Yep. We’ve got pistachios and almonds over there,” a subtle wave to the left, “and we grow kiwis, nectarines, plums, and we added avocado trees a few years back.”

“So... where are the vegetables then?”

“Oh!” Clarke fumbled out of Lexa’s lap and helped her up. “They aren’t part of the farm, not exactly. Come on.”

Lexa really had no idea how big the house was until they meandered back up on horseback and Lexa could see the full expanse of the home without large trees blocking her view. Clarke kept moving, past the barn and up a small dirt road that Lexa hadn’t even noticed before. Two small greenhouses sat proudly before a small fence that seemed to line the front half of the property.

“My dad... he built them, after... after he got sick. Wanted to make sure his parents could grow everything they’d need, since... he wouldn’t be around to make trips into town and... well, they’re getting older now.”

“So, everything you have at the market comes from...?”

“Yeah.” She dismounted and waited for Lexa to do the same. “That one is just corn, something that doesn’t grow easily here but... Grandpa loves it, so, Dad found a way. But it also tends to kind of take over, so she’s all alone in there.”

Lexa nodded and followed Clarke into the other greenhouse, one full of all manner of vegetables and some fruits that Lexa hadn’t seen at the market table.

“Grandma makes jams,” Clarke explained, her eyes following Lexa’s as she took it all in. “And what started out as a couple of good plants... well, turned into really healthy ones and now, we end up with more than we can eat, so... that’s what I sell at the market.”

“This is... Clarke, this is incredible.”

“It’s pretty self-sustaining, yeah.”

“No, it’s... perfect.” Lexa pulled Clarke close and when their lips crashed together, Lexa felt that intense pull get stronger, the desire to be with Clarke only growing as her hands found purchase against Clarke’s hips.

Clarke clung to her shoulders even as the kiss intensified, didn’t let go until they were both struggling to get air and had to stop, and even then her arms stayed put, fingers loosely linked behind Lexa’s neck. Clarke’s forehead fell softly against Lexa’s shoulder and she breathed Lexa in.

“Thank you, for today,” Lexa whispered, and she heard a muffled chuckle.

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” Clarke smirked as she pulled back and looked at Lexa. “I haven’t even gotten you dirty.”

“You still planning on doing that then? I was kind of pleasantly surprised that you hadn’t-”

Clarke’s phone chirped in her pocket and she pulled it out and glanced at it, before pulling Lexa along and back to the horses. “Let’s get them back to the stable and then we’ll grab some lunch. After that, you’re all mine.” The twinkle in her eye was mischievous and somewhat alarming, if not also incredibly exciting on some level that Lexa didn’t want to think about, considering they were on their way to eat with Clarke’s grandparents.

______

“Grandpa Danny, this is Lexa,” Clarke introduced her to the man with kind eyes and a rough hand gingerly holding a plate of burgers.

“Oh!” He set the plate down. “Right, right. Lexa,” he said, a twinkle lighting up his blue eyes. “So good to meet you finally. I hear you’ve been helping out quite a lot at the market.”

The way he smiled reminded Lexa of Clarke, when she’d said something silly and it made Clarke laugh, and his eyes were just as blue, if not more weathered from age and the hardships that came with running a ranch. Lexa wondered if Clarke’s dad’s eyes were the same kind eyes she saw there, or if he maybe looked more like her grandmother, and for a moment was sad she’d never get to meet him.

“It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for allowing me into your home.” She smiled and shifted on her feet as Clarke pulled out a chair for her.

“So formal,” he chuckled. “Any _friend_ of Clarke’s is welcome.” He looked over at his wife who had just come to the table with a pitcher of lemonade. “Are they friends? Or, is this the girlfriend?” He whispered it to her, one hand covering his mouth so Lexa might not hear it, but she did.

“We’re,” Clarke started, but stopped suddenly. She looked to Lexa with a contemplative eyebrow raised. “We’re not _just_ friends, Granddad. But... we’re not official.”

“Huh,” he said as he took his seat and passed the plate of burgers over to Clarke. “Confusing,” he muttered. “Anyway, Lexa. How do you like it? The farm?”

“I love it,” she said earnestly.

Everything about it was perfect - Clarke, her family, the land - all of it was more than Lexa could have imagined it might be. She could spend days walking the land and taking it all in, could picture camping under the stars with Clarke, and Madi, picking vegetables early Saturday morning to take to the market... If she was ever a city girl, she felt very removed from the concept sitting at that table with them.

Lexa probably complimented the burgers a few times too many, but they were amazing - and everything was from the farm (except the bread) - the beef, the tomato, the lettuce... Even the kitchen table had been hand carved from trees that once sat along the outer edge of the property by a Griffin in the distant past, she learned.

She didn’t expect Clarke’s grandmother to pull her into the living room while Clarke cleaned up, but the gentle hand on her leg as she set a photo album across Lexa’s lap was calming and warm, maternal even. Lexa giggled with Clara as she flipped through pages of baby Clarke - bubble baths and birthdays, Clarke rolling in the grass with a baby cow, riding a horse for the first time, and Clarke with her father, Jake, who had the same kind eyes and bright sparkle she saw reflected in the pools of blue that were watching her from the doorway.

“Hey.” Clarke quirked a brow at the two of them. “Having fun?”

“Mmhmm.” Lexa nodded. “You were _adorable_.”

“Oh, she’s still adorable, I think,” Clarke’s grandma cooed. “Clarke, were you still planning on milking the cows this afternoon? I know Marcus did early this morning, but if you can’t, I’ll ask him to take care of it before he heads out.”

“Yep.” She urged Lexa over to her with a casual head nod. “That’s where we’re headed next.”

“We are?”

______

Clarke was not kidding when she said she was going to get Lexa dirty, if the milk running down her face and shirt was anything to go by. The shriek she let out when Clarke first aimed the udder startled even the cow, and the subsequent milk war seemed to really put her off - she stomped her feet and huffed as Lexa ducked beside her in a futile attempt to hide from Clarke.

“Stop!” Lexa yelped. “No more!”

But Clarke was laughing way too hard to hear anything she said, and the small bucket of milk in her hands told Lexa she was in for a lot more trouble if she didn’t take action. She tackled Clarke to the dirt and pushed the bucket as far away from herself as she could, even as Clarke gripped her shirt and tried to pull herself free.

Their tumble only seemed to further annoy the cow, who kicked the stool over and ambled out of the barn. But that did nothing to deter Clarke from wrestling Lexa more, until she had the upper hand and was straddling Lexa’s waist - Clarke was surprisingly strong, considering her frame, and Lexa assumed it had something to do with working the farm, which suddenly felt like a very unfair advantage to Lexa’s mere weight lifting.

The sudden heat that coursed through Lexa and settled somewhere lower than she was ready for was the direct result of Clarke pinning her arms above her head in the dirt and smiling wickedly at her. Her shirt was sopping wet and she was sure it would start to smell in no time at all, but Clarke apparently had little to no concern as she leaned down and pressed her chest against Lexa, eyes dark and seductive in a way that had Lexa reeling.

Her breath caught in her throat and she was gasping for air well before Clarke was kissing her, hips grinding slowly as they made out in the dirt floor of the barn, all cows and chores forgotten entirely. Clarke let go of Lexa’s arms in favor of snaking her hands up Lexa’s shirt and Lexa was more than grateful for the opportunity to finally get her hands on Clarke’s body, her back, her ass, her glorious tits-

“Fuck,” she heard Clarke whimper. “Okay.” she pushed up and rested her head against Lexa’s wildly heaving chest. “We should... not do this here.”

“Where?” Lexa asked, all rational thought completely gone.

“No.” Clarke flashed her an assumed smile. “We’re not... I meant we should not do this... today.” Clarke pushed herself all the way and sat back, still a bit dazed and breathing heavily. “But the cows do need milking, so... let’s finish that.”

“Oh.” Lexa tried to swallow the disappointment bubbling up in her throat.

Somehow, Lexa managed to calm her libido enough to actually concentrate on Clarke and the random facts she occasionally shared as they filled a couple of buckets and headed out of the barn.

“Oh, that reminds me! You should definitely meet Bellamy before you go.”

“Ah, yes. The prostitute prized bull,” Lexa said sarcastically - did she really need to meet him?

“Yep.” Clarke nodded. “But first, to the goats! I want to check in on them, if that’s okay.”

“Definitely, of course.”

______

Back out in the field, just past a couple of grazing cows, there was a smaller pen (a wooden fence surrounded the area closed off by a little gate that had a lock on it) with a little red barn no bigger than four feet tall in the corner, a picnic table, and a makeshift obstacle course that Lexa found confusing at first sight.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed two goats (a tan colored one and one that was a mix of brown and gray) bucking each other from atop the old wire spool that sat in the middle of the course. Clarke unlocked the gate and ushered Lexa inside quickly before closing it behind them both. There was also a seesaw along the left side of the pen and a couple of old tires on the right.

“The goats are Madi’s,” Clarke explained. “Something my grandfather thought would be a fun introductory way to get her interested in the farm. That, and... responsibility. I mean, I had a baby cow, so I guess it made sense, but... I find myself caring for them more often than not.”

Lexa watched the brown goat knock the other goat down, leaving the poor thing dazed and running into the spool head first.

“Hey, Adora,” Clarke called to the tan goat, patted her on the butt and sent her back toward the obstacle course. “The brown one is Catra, and that idiot,” Clarke pointed to the tan goat who had somehow managed to get stuck in the ladder almost immediately afterward, “is Adora. Glimmer is around here somewhere - she finds ways to disappear sometimes, although I don’t know how since the pen is locked and there is nowhere for her to go.” Clarke shrugged.

Before Lexa felt something collide with the back of her leg, she watched the brown goat, Catra, manage to rescue the other one from the ladder - she had no idea how - but the sudden collision sent her tumbling forward into Clarke’s arms.

“Oh, there she is.” Clarke rubbed her ears. “This is Glimmer.”

Lexa nodded and watched the goats playing while Clarke filled their food bowls and checked the little house to make sure their beds were intact. Sitting on the seesaw was very likely the worst idea Lexa had had all day because almost as soon as she did, Catra (from out of absolutely nowhere) jumped onto the other side, and Lexa, startled and off-balance, fell awkwardly onto the ground with a thud.

“Oof!” she landed just as the goat jumped away, apparently proud of herself.

“Sorry.” Clarke pulled Lexa up. “She’s kind of a trouble-maker.”

“It’s fine.” She rubbed the spot on her ass where she’d hit the ground hardest. “I definitely did not expect so many animals. Three goats?”

“Hey,” Clarke held her hands up in defense, “I didn’t get them for her. Wanna see the chickens?”

“You have chickens, too?”

“Babe! Of course we do.” Clarke shook her head. “But just the two - Noodle and Nugget.”

“How many of the animals have you let Madi name?”

“Just the goats.”

“Oh.”

Before they made it to the chicken pen, Clarke’s phone beeped and she cursed under her breath.

“I need to check on Murphy.” Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and pulled her back in the direction of the giant pasture where the cows were grazing. “She’s pregnant, but Marcus said she hasn’t been eating.”

“Murphy is... a she?”

“Oh,” Clarke nodded as she searched the pen, “Grandma originally called her Smurfette, but Madi struggled with that and so she became Murphy. Nickname sorta stuck.”

“And Murphy is pregnant with...?”

“Bellamy’s baby, mmhmm. They’re a pretty cute couple, if I do say so myself.”

“A couple?”

“Well, not technically, no. Bellamy doesn’t really discriminate - had three cows pregnant at one time, in fact. And that was just on our farm... kinda why he’s a good bull.”

“Gotcha.” Lexa nodded, still doubtful that she’d ever be quite as impressed with Bellamy as everyone else seemed to be.

_____

“I didn’t think we’d actually end up here.” Lexa scowled as she took in the massive bull before her. He was snorting and it was gross, and even as Marcus assured her he was a good boy, she got a bad vibe off the guy... or, cow... bull. Whatever.

“He’s a gentle giant, really,” Clarke prodded, hiding a snicker behind her hand. “You can do it, babe. I have faith in you.”

Lexa could smell her shirt by the time they reached the bull pen that afternoon - sour milk and sweat and whatever the goats had been rolling around in all mixed in to create a really... well, farm-authentic stench that followed her everywhere she went. The giant pile of shit she narrowly avoided when Clarke had finished up her health check on Murphy was still lingering somewhere in the fine hair inside of her nose and for the first time all day, she wondered if the farm life was really all that perfect.

Marcus unlatched the gate and opened it slowly even as he urged her inside. She made eye contact with the beast and he snorted again, stared her down and stomped his front leg. Without looking away, she quietly urged Marcus to keep the gate open, in case she needed to make a hasty escape.

“No need to escape, he’s nice! Here, just-” Marcus stepped around the pen and patted Bellamy on the butt, an attempt to show Lexa he was just like any cow on the farm, but it spurred the bull into action and he leapt forward-

The shriek that left Lexa’s mouth would have been completely embarrassing had it not been for the fact that Bellamy had rushed her and knocked her onto her ass - and right into a massive mud puddle she hadn’t seen when she entered the pen. Marcus leapt into the pen and roped the damn animal into submission almost as soon as she’d screamed.

Clarke was at her side quickly, but she was laughing so hard that tears had begun to form in the creases of her eyes and she was holding her stomach even as she set a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “Shit,” she laughed. “I’m sorry, I honestly... I did not expect that.”

“I’m sure,” Lexa retorted.

“No, for real. He’s not usually... maybe it’s the shirt or something.”

Lexa glanced down at her red t-shirt and gasped. “You let me go in there looking like this?”

“Oh, that’s not a thing,” Marcus insisted. “Clarke is messing with you. I do apologize, though, sincerely. He is usually very good with the ladies,” he said as he offered to pull Lexa to her feet.

“Well, he’s not a fan of mine,” Lexa grumbled. She could feel the squish of her jeans against the ground as they helped her up and “oh gross” came out involuntarily as she tried to wipe the mud away once she was standing upright.

“Shit.” Clarke spun Lexa around and gaped at the sight of her jeans. “Uh, well I did say I was going to get you dirty today,” she said meekly, “but that’s not really what I had in mind. Come on, we’ll hose you off and then I’m sure I’ve got something you can wear.”

“Hose me off?”

Clarke was not kidding. She sprayed the hose at Lexa’s backside until the mud had all but washed away and Lexa was shivering despite the warmth of the brightly shining sun. Clarke’s grandma brought Lexa a towel to help sop up the excess water, chuckling a bit as she did. When Clarke left to put the hose back up, her grandmother saw it as an opportunity to talk to Lexa.

“My, my... not the best introduction to life on the farm then, was it?” she asked.

“Actually, it wasn’t bad. Until the bull.”

“Well, I do hope he hasn’t scared you off from coming back. I haven’t seen her light up like that... maybe ever.” She shrugged, eyes fixed on her granddaughter.

“No way,” Lexa replied confidently. “I’ll definitely be back, if... well, if I’m invited back, I mean.”

“She’s stubborn, that one.” Clara rolled her eyes. “But whatever is happening between the two of you, I can tell you that it’s very real for her. You’ll be back. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so,” Lexa wished it into existence just as Clarke appeared on the porch.

“You good?”

“Ah, I’m as dry as I’m going to get, I think.”

“Okay, come on.”

Clarke grabbed her hand and interlaced their fingers as she pulled Lexa along, up a large winding staircase, down a long hallway past several bedrooms and a bathroom, until they stopped abruptly in front of a door at the end of the hallway and Clarke rocked on her heels a bit before turning the knob.

“I can... wait outside,” Lexa offered, considering it was likely they had arrived at Clarke’s bedroom and maybe Clarke wasn’t ready to actually invite Lexa in.

“No, it’s... just... don’t be disappointed, okay?”  
  
What? Lexa scratched at her forehead and tried to hide her confusion at the statement. The best she could come up with was that Clarke was insecure about it for some reason, maybe because she assumed Lexa had some fancy house in the city with a fancy bedroom to match her fancy clothes - she’d all but said as much on other occasions - but Lexa didn’t have fancy anything, except clothes, and that was just because of work.

Clarke opened the door revealing a modest bedroom with light gray walls and a huge bay window with a cozy little bench seat beside it. Lexa guessed it was a Queen-sized bed, though she couldn’t be certain, with oversized pillows and a tangle of sheets and blankets in the middle of it. As far as Lexa was concerned, it looked... well, like a bedroom.

Clarke pulled open a chest of drawers and snatched a pair of sweat pants without really looking. They were bright blue and had something written down the side of one leg.

“Will these work?” Clarke’s tone was already dry, the walls building back up slowly, and Lexa assumed Clarke was prepared for something, judgement or disdain, to come from Lexa.

“Thanks.” Lexa grabbed them and set them on the bed. “It’s nice.”

“What is?”

“Your bedroom. I like it. Kinda makes mine feel like... a jail cell. This is... it feels more like home.”

“Oh,” was all that squeaked out.

Lexa underestimated the difficulty with which her pants would come off after their soaking, given the fact that they were already a big tight to start with, and was struggling to pull them down her body. She sighed heavily when she finally managed to peel them off and toss them into the bag Clarke had brought along, but when she looked back up at Clarke, she appeared to be having a struggle all her own.

Her eyes were nearly black, lower lip sunk between her teeth, and she wasn’t breathing - at least, it didn’t look like she was breathing. Lexa hadn’t considered how exposed she’d be once the jeans were off, standing next to Clarke’s bed in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of black boy shorts, but she felt the intensity of Clarke’s stare as much as she felt the heat flood her body.

Clarke’s eyes narrowed at her as she pulled the sweatpants on and it almost felt like she’d done the wrong thing, but she was chilled, and didn’t think she should stand around in next-to-nothing for too long, just in case... But when blue eyes looked up and down the length of her body, standing there in Clarke’s clothes, she thought maybe it had been the right thing after all.

“Damn,” escaped as Clarke crowded her space, fingers tangling in Lexa’s hair before crashing their lips together in a heated kiss that sent a shockwave rippling through Lexa’s body.

Lexa could hear her heart beat in her ears, felt the sway of her body on suddenly unsteady feet, and if it weren’t for Clarke holding her, she’d probably float away. Maybe if it hadn’t been so intense, so completely unbridled and passionate, they’d have heard the pitter-patter of little feet down the hallway, or the door knob turning, or the door pushing open - but they didn’t, too absorbed in what felt like the kind of kiss that said everything neither of them had been ready to say.

“Momma? Why are you kissing Lexa?”

Lexa jumped away from Clarke so fast she nearly lost her footing and crashed onto the ground for the hundredth time that day. Her eyes were wide, she could feel them, and if fear had a look, she was also pretty sure she was wearing it all over her face. Clarke, on the other hand, seemed... calm. Too calm?

“Wait here,” she pleaded with Lexa, probably because Lexa looked ready to flee the scene of a crime that had not even been committed.

Clarke grabbed Madi’s hand and led her out of the bedroom, the faint conversation still loud enough for Lexa to hear.

“When Momma’s door is shut, what are we supposed to do?”

“Knock.”

“And did you?”

“Uh... no,” was the last thing she heard the little girl say before a door somewhere farther down the hallway shut quietly.

Lexa stood there completely paralyzed despite the speed with which the wheels inside her brain were turning. Was seven too young to understand homosexuality? Had Clarke explained her own bisexual-ness? Would that even be a thing? Why had Lexa not done more research on _that_ when she was googling children?

It was likely only ten minutes or so that had passed, but it felt like years to Lexa - like by the time Clarke got back, Lexa would be old and gray and still stuck waiting, worried. But, despite the relatively short amount of time Clarke had been gone, her face betrayed that a lot had changed, and even though Lexa was no less young than when Clarke had walked away, she felt every bit of the worry.

“I’m so sorry, Clarke. I-”

“It’s fine,” she waved it off. “She’s a smart kid, remember? Besides, like, every single character on her favorite show is gay, so... I mean, if that’s what you’re worried about-”

“Well, it was... but, should I be worried about something else?”

“I... fuck, this was not how I saw today going,” Clarke said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands.

“What... what happened?”

“She... Lexa, she asked if it meant you’d be coming to her birthday party, which - it’s not even coming up, I don’t... she’s just, she’s already attached Lexa, and I can’t... I won’t put her through this.”

“Through what, Clarke?”

“Through the heartbreak. She’s too young, and... I’d like to spare her as much pain as I can, while I can. And when this, when we, inevitably crash and burn... thinking about what that might do to her, Lexa-”

“Clarke, we won’t-”

“Lexa, please. We both know how this ends.”

“No, actually, we don’t. Clarke, it’s barely even had the chance to _begin_.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t hate that I’m having this conversation with you? I want this, Lexa. God, you have no idea how badly I... but I just can’t do that to her.”

“Why are you so certain this won’t work?”

“How are you so sure that it will?”

“Because I... because I am.”

“Well... I wish I could be, too, but... I mean what’s the plan, Lexa? You’re gonna move in here? Drive three hours a day to work and back? That’s not fair.”

“Ah... Maybe start with a few more dates, first.” Lexa tried to lighten the mood.

“And that’s another thing! We’ve been on... what, one and a half dates? And you’re sure?”

“No! Fine, no, I’m not sure. But it has nothing to do with me, Clarke, or the way I feel. I have no idea where I stand with you, and if I’m being honest, I’m tired of having this same argument with you every time it gets real. This... it’s not a game to me, Clarke, but it feels like... it feels like you’ve been playing around with my heart.”

“I... no.” Clarke’s eyes bounced from Lexa to the ceiling and back again rapidly as she processed what had been said. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Lexa grabbed the bag with her wet jeans and held her chin high, prepared to walk away from Clarke despite the growing ache in her chest.

“I want you, Lexa. That was never... it’s not- I just can’t,” she said with finality, even as she dropped her shoulders and swallowed what seemed to be a fairly sizable lump in her throat . But if there were tears, Lexa didn’t wait around to see them.

_____

For several days following Lexa’s stint at farm life, she contemplated calling Clarke. But the chasm inside her chest where her heart used to be begged her not to - let it be, let it go, move on... She used all manner of mantras to help her get over the pain. How she had managed to leave the farm without crying was still a mystery to her - she didn’t even let on that anything was wrong when she said goodbye to Clarke’s grandparents and thanked them for their hospitality.

But as days turned into weeks, life seemed to find a new rhythm, not one that Lexa preferred to the days when she’d see Clarke, but one that suited her just fine. Costia was talking to her again, at least, and their Sunday hikes had returned in full swing.

“All I’m saying, Lexa, is that if you really care about her then... you can’t just walk away.”

“Why are we still talking about Clarke?” Lexa asked over breakfast, the scrambled eggs already getting cold for her lack of general appetite.

“Because you’re moping and it’s pathetic. And because I want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy enough,” Lexa lied.

“You’re not happy.”

And if hearing about it from Costia wasn’t enough, Anya had taken up the mantle of love guru in recent days, and her awkward attempts at forcing Lexa to get back out there were really starting to grate on her nerves.

“If you won’t go out with Raven’s co-worker, then come out with us.”

“I can’t come out with you, Anya. I know what night it is.”

“So, you’re over it, but you still track her Friday nights? Come on, Lexa. Maybe... maybe the two of you should talk. She... she seems miserable, too. Maybe if you just-”

“It was her choice, Anya. I’m so sick and tired of everyone telling me that I should do something! I did enough! I did everything, Anya. Okay? I was patient. I didn’t push. I let her let me in how she wanted to, when she wanted to - I worked the fucking farm for _her_! Okay? Nothing I ever did was enough. Now - Let. It. Go.”

The interns who had been hovering near the conference room scurried away before either woman was aware they had been nearby. Costia, however, was less afraid of the boom of Lexa’s voice and more hyper-attuned to it, as she came bursting into the conference room moments later.

“You love her, you idiot. That’s why we keep telling you to go after her. Okay?”

“I’m well aware of how I feel, Costia. Thank you,” Lexa growled.

“Fine!” Costia threw her hands up and pushed Anya out the door. “We’re done. Wallow if you must, but don’t come crying to either of us in five years when you realize you walked out on the love of your life, even if she was a stubborn asshole about it.”

“Don’t... call her that,” was said to an empty doorway.

But she couldn’t. There was no scenario that ended well for Lexa if she pushed back. And no real memory that didn’t include Clarke doing something, even small, to push her away. It was painfully obvious to Lexa that she had been a fool from the start - so focused on making sure Clarke didn’t think she was a player that Lexa didn’t realize she’d been played.

A few phone calls from Clarke went unanswered and, aside from an occasional text (usually something like ‘hope all is well with you’), their relationship had effectively ended. It wasn’t like Lexa had actually moped, or wallowed, or... anything else Costia accused of her doing. She simply resumed the life she had pre-Clarke.

Two months and eight days had gone by, but she wasn’t counting. Work kept her busy enough to keep her mind off of Clarke most of the time, and if she occasionally found herself thinking back on something with fondness, she told herself it was because she was over it and not because she missed Clarke with every fiber of her being - that would be absolutely ridiculous anyway. They’d barely had a relationship. How the hell could she miss someone so much that she barely even dated?

“Hey,” Anya greeted, knocking on her office door. “Maybe... you should take off.”

“What?” It was barely four and she had plenty of paperwork left to keep her busy for another hour, at least.

“Just... um, leave early?”

“What is going on with you?”

Anya sighed dramatically and explained, “There’s a truck parked outside and, according to my assistant, has been for thirty minutes.”

“So, call a tow truck?”

“I would, except that when I peeked through the blinds, I realized that I know the truck... and so do you.”

“What?” Lexa stopped typing and focused her full attention on Anya.

“It’s Clarke. She’s been parked out there for awhile and I think-”

Lexa didn’t wait for Anya to continue, she grabbed her bag and her keys, pushed through the front door and rushed over the pickup truck as fast as her feet would take her. Clarke was hunched over the steering wheel when Lexa got to her door, and it took several light taps against the window to get her attention. Even through the glass, Lexa could tell that Clarke had been crying.

She took a small step back as Clarke pushed open the door and collapsed into Lexa’s arms.

“I’m sorry, Lexa. I’m so sorry,” she whispered against Lexa’s cheek as strong arms wrapped around her and held her upright.

“Clarke...” The worry in Lexa’s voice caught them both off guard. “What’s wrong?”

“I... Lexa-” The words caught in her throat as a fresh flood of tears spilled from her eyes.

Lexa had no idea what was going on, or what do to, other than to stand there and hold the blonde for as long as she needed, even if she could see sets of eyes peering out at them through the blinds in her office. Clarke was a mess, that much was clear, but what-

“Clarke, is Madi-”

“No.” She shook her head. “She’s okay, it’s... I just have to tell you, you know? I have to, even if... it’s too late, and I know that it is, but I have to, okay?”

“You’re not really making any sense, Clarke.”

Lexa pulled Clarke into a tight hug before ushering her over to the curb so they could both sit down - if her fancy dress pants were ruined, so be it; she could buy a new pair. A firm hand gripped Clarke’s shoulder and pulled her close, and Lexa felt Clarke melt into her embrace before the tears started to flow again with a newfound urgency.

She sat with Clarke for twenty minutes, or twenty hours, until the crying subsided and Clarke seemed more able to form coherent thoughts, even if the words she said weren’t the ones Lexa was expecting.

“Can we... can we go somewhere?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Just... somewhere else... so we can talk?”

If Lexa was supposed to offer up a suggestion, she was coming up blank. She didn’t know the city all that well, despite what Clarke thought about her, and aside from going home, she didn’t know anywhere quiet or private enough that they could really... _talk_ , if that was what Clarke wanted.

“Okay,” Lexa nodded and helped Clarke stand up.

The drive to her house wasn’t nearly as long as it would have been if they had left twenty minutes later, an odd fact about the traffic she’d come to accept. What she hadn’t come to accept, on the short drive, was that Clarke was in her car at all. And yet, when she pulled into her driveway and opened the garage, Clarke’s hand flew to her leg and the audible intake of breath proved that she was, in fact, very real and in Lexa’s car.

“I... I didn’t really know where-” Lexa started.

“No, it’s... it’s good. It’s fine.”

Lexa unlocked the door and held it open for Clarke, and if ever there was a moment she felt like she was being judged, it was then, as Clarke stepped inside and took the place in. It was nothing like the farm, and nothing like the penthouse Clarke imagined Lexa living in, either. It was simple, if not a bit drab - she didn’t have much in the way of decoration, and her color scheme was all very neutral tones. The couch was more design than comfort, which Lexa didn’t mind because she spent more time outside than she did in that living room.

“Um, it’s more comfortable on the patio, if-”

“Okay.” Clarke nodded and waited for Lexa to lead the way.

Lexa grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with water, handed one to Clarke, and sat down in the lounge across from her. She felt even more uncertain sitting across from Clarke than she had the entire drive home. Maybe that was because Clarke was merely a figure in her periphery on the drive, quiet and barely noticeable, whereas on the patio, in that moment, Clarke was very vividly sitting directly across from Lexa - and the sun was shining against blue eyes that seemed to sparkle even through the irritation of hours spent crying.

“So... if it’s not Madi, then... what’s going on, Clarke?”

“Today, well it’s always a hard day, you know? My dad... the day he passed. And I... I always know it’s going to be a hard day, I always know my heart will ache and I’ll be a mess and... and it’s okay because it was such a profound loss, you know?”

She did.

“But I... Lexa, I found myself mourning more than just my dad today. My heart ached, but it wasn’t just him... and I just need you to know, I needed to tell you... because...” She stopped and tried to gather herself again. “He was so young, you know. I was only sixteen when he... do you know what that’s like?”

“My mother, or... my adoptive mom... Yeah, Clarke I know.”

“Does that day... Do you ever just reflect on... the choices you’ve made?”

“I usually spend that day with Gustus, my dad. We watch old home movies and spend the day together. We have breakfast for dinner, and we just... exist together, for that day, just the two of us. Sometimes, it almost feels like she’s there.”

“That’s... that sounds really nice. My mom was working, and... it’s hard for my grandparents, too... I guess it hits them differently.”

“I can imagine it would.” Lexa watched as Clarke chewed on her bottom lip and willed herself to stay on topic, could see it in the way her blue eyes locked on Lexa’s, in the heavy steadying sigh that followed, and in the way she shifted in her seat as her knuckles gripped the edge.

“I’m sorry, you know? You do know... right?”

“Clarke, I’m not sure what you want from me here. Do I know that you’re sorry you never gave us a shot? No, not really... if you’re saying it now, then... okay. I understand, if that’s what you want to hear.”

“No,” she gulped. “That’s not... I don’t want to hear anything, Lexa. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I love you. And I’m an idiot. And I was sitting there today, talking to my dad, and all I wanted to tell him about was... was you. And I miss you. And life is... it’s too fucking short. I never... there was nobody before... I didn’t ever think about it like that until... you. He’s gone, Lexa. And you’re... you’re gone, too, but you’re still... here and so I just, I had to tell you. I needed you to know, because I can’t tell him ever again, but Lexa... I can still tell you - I love you.”

Clarke buried her face in her hands - Lexa could tell that she was crying again by the way her body shuddered lightly, and Lexa realized that Clarke really wasn’t there to hear anything from Lexa, didn’t expect Lexa to say it back, but then... she had to, didn’t she? Wasn’t this the moment Costia and Anya had been pushing her toward?

“Clarke.” She moved to sit next to the blonde, wrapped a strong arm around shaky shoulders and brushed back the hair that had fallen into Clarke’s face.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I know... I know I was wrong and... I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just-”

“I do, though.”

“What?”

“I do. You... God, you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, Clarke. But, you have a big heart and you fiercely protect the people you love, even... even it means sacrificing your own happiness. Or mine, as it were.”

“I never meant to hurt you. I... I really hope you believe that.”

“I do. I believed the whole time that you did what you did to protect Madi from the, what was it? Inevitable pain I would cause her.”

“Yeah...” Clarke bit her lip again and winced. “Look, I know I fucked up. I did think I was protecting her, but... She asked about you, a couple of times, usually when she would ask me why I was so sad. And... I didn’t do a damn thing to shield her from the pain because it’s been written all over my face for months.”

“How is she?”

“She’s good.” Clarke smiled for the first time since they sat down.

“Good.” Lexa nodded and looked down at her feet.

“Thank you, for asking about her.”

“Well, it’s not her fault you’re so stubborn,” Lexa joked, the slightest smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

“Listen, I... I didn’t plan to take up your whole night or anything. I just felt like... on a day like today, I needed to be honest with you about how I feel. So, thank you for listening. And... I-”

Lexa cut her off with a gentle touch, her thumb brushed across Clarke’s lips before she tugged lightly on Clarke’s chin and pulled her in. Blue eyes were wide, in shock or anticipation, and studying Lexa’s face even as Lexa closed her own eyes and kissed the woman who’d been pouring her heart out with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Fingers threaded into her hair as she changed the angle of the kiss and when Clarke slid a slow and timid tongue against her bottom lip, her breath caught and she knew that nothing had changed for her - that she definitely loved Clarke, and would love her for as long as she was allowed to.

“Clarke,” she shook herself out of the moment, broke the kiss and locked on eyes as dark and blue as the deepest part of the ocean, “I love you, too.”

“You... what?”

“Did you think... that I didn’t? That I could ever stop?”

“I, well... I mean, after what I said, and... I wouldn’t have blamed you, if you had stopped.”

“It doesn’t really work that way, I don’t think.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

______

“So,” Raven said as she squeezed between Lexa and Anya and threw an arm over each of their shoulders, “is it about time for cake, you think?”

“Not for awhile, Rae,” Lexa replied as she glanced over to the goat pen where Madi and her friends were playing with the goats, laughing maniacally at Catra and Adora who were, in typical fashion, head butting and trying to knock each other off of the wire spool.

“Damn,” she sighed. “Well, I’m early. Where is Clarke?”

“With Dr. Jackson. Murphy is ready to give birth, which Madi is ecstatic about. I do not envy the day Clarke has to explain that Murphy’s baby is headed for Blake’s.”

“Ah, it won’t be the first time.” Raven shrugged. “Although, I don’t know if it gets easier or harder as they grow up. Clarke cried for like, two weeks, the first time.”

Lexa could see Danny struggling to hold the plate as he added more burgers to it, so she dipped out from under Raven’s arm and jogged over to give him a hand. They had set up a picnic table near the back porch and Clara was busy filling up little cups with lemonade.

“Lexa!” Madi ran over and crashed into her legs, almost toppling the plate of burgers from her grasp with the force of her collision - a quick hand underneath it saved them all and helped Lexa guide the plate safely onto the center of the table. “Catra tried to bite me.”

“Yeah? Did you bite her back?”

“Ew!” Madi wrinkled up her nose. “No, she’s... smelly.”

“Maybe we should give her a bath then. Tomorrow?”

“Okay,” she sighed heavily.

Lexa and Clara shared a small smile - Clarke had been asking her to bathe the goats for two weeks, something she admitted to Lexa wasn’t a necessity but would help keep them lice-free and make trimming them much easier. She ran back over to her friends and pointed at the picnic table where their lunch was ready and waiting.

“Clarke will appreciate that.” Clara winked.

“I hope so. The last time I got in the pen with them, Adora knocked me into the fence and Catra head-butted me while I was defenseless!”

They shared a laugh and helped ready the plates for Madi’s friends just as Clarke and Jackson appeared over the hill. Clarke looked more than a little disheveled, but the smile on her face told Lexa it had been a successful, if not trying, birth. Marcus roped the horses and led them to the barn as Clarke and Jackson said goodbye.

Clarke rushed into the house to clean up just as a sporty, black sedan pulled up and parked beside the tire swing - Lexa saw the woman before anyone else, and she might have been intimidated if she didn’t know it was just Abby, with an armful of delicately wrapped presents for her only granddaughter.

“Hey, Lexa.” She waved and set the presents on the table they had set out on the porch. “How have you been settling in?” Abby asked, genuine curiosity to her voice.

“Pretty good,” Lexa admitted. “The drive is a pain, but it’s worth it.”

“I’m glad Clarke finally found someone who feels that way,” she said as she wrapped Lexa up in a hug. “Now, where is that daughter of mine?”

“Washing up. Murphy had the baby.”

“It’s called a calf, babe,” Clarke laughed as she walked up behind the two of them and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s middle. “Hey, Mom. Madi asked about you this morning.”

“I know I’ve been busy lately, but I’m going to try to come visit more.”

Clarke and Lexa shared a knowing look - Marcus trotted over and gave Abby a friendly hug, one that they both knew was anything but. But they’d been moving at a much slower pace than Clarke and Lexa had, and if they weren’t ready to share their relationship with anyone yet, Clarke was okay to let them have it.

“Madi agreed to help me wash the goats tomorrow.” Lexa smirked at her girlfriend and linked their hands together as she pulled Clarke toward the picnic table.

“What? No way,” she gasped. “I’ve been trying to-”

“I know.” Lexa’s smirk became even more smug. “The opportunity arose and... I took it. She agreed without much fuss.”

“And you’re... going to help her?”

“With supervision?”

“Do you... do you really need supervision, babe?”

“I mean... Catra is mean,” Lexa admitted sheepishly - it wasn’t like she didn’t how to bathe an animal, but... there was a certain fear she hated to admit when it came to those damn goats.

“Fine,” Clarke chuckled. “I’ll help. And maybe... when we’re finished,” Clarke stopped and pulled Lexa in close before whispering, “I’ll find a way to thank you for getting her to finally agree to taking care of them.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Lexa smiled, her arms wrapping tightly around Clarke’s waist as she leaned, “... but I can think of a few ways, if you really want to... ”

Lexa didn’t even care that she heard several of the kids shout “yuck” from their place at the table, because when Clarke kissed her, it felt like everything made sense, like every decision she’d ever made had somehow led her to that very moment, to that very kiss. It always felt like that, she thought to herself, and she knew that it always would, because everything fit when she was with Clarke, and when Clarke kissed her, it felt like... home.


End file.
